


A Beastly Curse

by maraudersaffair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Severus Snape Lives, Sexual Tension, Werewolf Harry Potter, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/pseuds/maraudersaffair
Summary: Harry is cursed and needs Severus' help. Unfortunately Severus is too much in love with Harry to go near him.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 176
Kudos: 444





	1. Villains Don't Have Lovers

Severus Snape was alive. 

He was alive, but he wasn’t pleased about it.

He’d meant to die in the war. A hero’s death. It was why he hadn’t put up much of a fight when Nagini went for his jugular. He’d just been so tired, so thoroughly done with the world. 

Albus had told him to go back. Severus found himself in his ghostly office, and of course the afterlife was Hogwarts. Severus would never escape the bloody castle. 

_You cannot move on yet, I’m afraid_ , Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, a stupid smile curling his mouth. _There is one last thing you must do._

 _Haven’t I already served my purpose?_ Severus was enraged. _How many more times must I sacrifice myself?_

 _One more time_.

Severus woke up in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, and Harry Potter was at his side. It was disorienting: Potter’s green eyes had been the last thing he saw before he slipped into unconsciousness, and now those same eyes were watching him. 

“Why?” Severus croaked.

“Snape.” Potter licked his lips. “Severus.”

They stared at one another. 

“Why am I alive?”

Potter touched his hand. “I came back for you. It was what you deserved.” He smiled at Severus, and it was so bright, so lovely, that Severus had to turn away.

“Bugger off,” Severus said, painfully rolling over. “I just want to be left alone.”

*

Severus lived in Cokeworth now. He was in his childhood home at Spinner’s End, and he hated it. He hated it but it was comforting. He and those old dusty rooms knew each other. They had an understanding. They protected one another.

For money, Severus brewed mail-ordered potions day and night. He let the work consume him. He avoided mirrors and sunlight. He didn’t answer his door, and he burned every letter he received. A few had been from Potter. It’d delighted him to see the fire swallow the name. 

He drank too much tea but stayed away from liquor. It was all over if he and whiskey became mates. His breakfast was a few eggs and a sad tomato. His dinner was a poorly made toastie, or a Cheese and Pickle. 

He read the _Daily Prophet_ obsessively. He remembered what Dumbledore had told him, and he searched the newspaper for any sign the Dark Lord was not dead. Severus hadn’t witnessed his death, and it would make sense that Dumbledore would send him back if the war wasn’t truly over.

Potter was on every page in the newspaper. Severus lost track of time as he stared at him. Potter had grown up. He was already in Auror training, and already engaged. He didn’t look eighteen. He looked capable, powerful. Sometimes he smiled directly into the camera, and Severus cut those photographs out of the newspaper. No one would ever know. 

Severus wasn’t happy, not by a long shot, but he was surviving.

*

Then one day Potter visited Severus. When he yanked his door open and saw it was Potter pounding on his door, he was so livid he could barely speak. Potter stood tall in his spotless Auror robes. He radiated power.

“Yes?” Severus said, his lips trembling. 

Potter looked at his mouth then into his eyes. He smiled warmly. “Sorry to bother you, Severus. Mind if I come in?”

“Fucking hell,” Severus said, and left Potter alone in his open doorway. He stomped to his pathetic sofa and chairs. He gritted his teeth when he heard Potter calmly close his door and follow him inside. 

“Thank you for letting me pop by,” Potter said. He tapped on a chair. “May I?” He didn’t wait for an answer before sitting down. 

Severus’ anger made him catch his breath; it made him feel too hot, too bothered. “Tell me what the hell you want.”

“I just want to know how you’re getting on,” Potter said. “You don’t venture out much.”

“How do you know?”

Potter shrugged. “People talk. They are worried about you.”

“Bloody gossips. Nobody cares about me.” Severus snapped his mouth shut. He had said too much.

“People care about you.” Potter looked around the lounge, taking in the old curtains, the dusty books. He glanced at Severus’s face, then away. There was pity in his eyes, Severus just knew it. 

“Don’t you dare,” Severus snarled. 

“What?”

Severus turned away. He held his wand, desperate to fire a hex or a curse. Potter shouldn’t be here. He was too bloody attractive to be in his house. 

Severus couldn’t look at him. Severus felt his gaze like the sun, like a spell aimed directly at his cock. 

It was one of the many stupid ironies of his life. Severus was attracted to all types of people and no one was attracted to him.

“Are you happy here?” Potter said. 

“I want you to leave.”

“You opened your door. You let me inside.”

“You were about to break it down!”

“No.” Potter sounded so damn level-headed and _mature_.

“I don’t want you here! I don’t want anyone here!” Severus was yelling. Potter had always made him yell. “You were never able to let things alone. You were always investigating, always _prying_. You already know enough of my secrets!”

Potter cocked his head. “What other secrets do you have, Severus?”

“Don’t call me that!” Severus shot a Bat-Bogey Hex at him as a warning, and Potter wordlessly blocked it. Potter came at him.

 _Bloody hell_ , Severus thought, and backed into the wall. Potter grabbed his wrist, squeezing hard. It was a technique used frequently by Aurors to urge suspects to release their wand. 

“Drop it,” Potter said.

“Do you know how powerful I am?” Severus hissed. “I could kill you.”

“We both know you won’t hurt me.”

“I hate you!”

“You didn’t hurt me after you killed Dumbledore, or when I plunged my head into your Pensieve. You’re not going to hurt me now.”

“I wanted to _murder_ you!”

Potter squeezed his wrist again. He pressed it hard against the wall. “ _Drop it_.”

Severus finally let himself stare into Potter’s eyes. They were such beautiful eyes. Severus dropped his wand. 

“Good,” Potter said, and he held his wrist for a few more seconds before releasing him. “Now we can talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you!”

“It will be quick. I would already be gone if you hadn’t put up a fight.”

Potter sat down on his collapsing sofa. He looked up at Severus expectantly. Severus Summoned his wand from the floor, then took up the chair opposite Potter. He tried to look intimidating, menacing, but he was excruciatingly aware of how dirty everything was.

“Put your wand away,” Potter said.

Glaring, Severus slipped it into his pocket. 

“I’m here because people are worried about you.”

“It’s none of your business!”

“McGonagall … Flitwick … even Hagrid. They all want to know if you are okay. I ran into Draco Malfoy the other day, and he said his mum has sent you countless owls. You are not even answering her.”

“Narcissa and I aren’t _friends_.”

“What about McGonagall? I thought …”

“The war changed everything.” Severus turned his face away.

“It didn’t,” Potter said softly. “They forgive you.”

“I don’t need their forgiveness!”

“Severus.”

“Jesus Christ, Potter. I am going to _strangle_ you.” 

Potter sucked in a deep breath. “You are a hero. You don’t deserve to be a prisoner.”

“I’m not a prisoner!”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“How dare you.”

“People want to celebrate you. They want to award you the Order of Merlin.”

“I don’t care.”

“You cared when Fudge wanted to give it to you in my third year.”

“I wanted your godfather dead. I wanted him back in Azkaban, _rotting_. It wasn’t about a stupid medal.”

“You were always gloating over how he couldn’t leave Grimmauld Place, how he was useless. Don’t you want to be better than him?”

“I’m already better than him,” Severus said. “I won the war. I’m _alive_.”

Potter pinched the bridge of his nose, and there was a gold ring on his finger. 

“You are already engaged.”

Potter looked at him. “Yes.”

“How pathetic.”

“My parents were young when they got married.”

“I don’t need to repeat myself.”

“Do you really still love her?” Potter leaned forward on the sofa.

Severus clasped his hands together, twisting. He stared down at his chapped knuckles. For so long, he’d carried his love for Lily as a deep dark secret. It was so strange to be able to talk about it, especially with _Potter_. “I will always love her.”

“Why?”

“ _Why?_ ”

“I didn’t know my mum, but you did.”

“She was … brilliant.” Severus closed his eyes, and tried to remember. He could barely remember what she looked like. “It was a long time ago.”

“But you still love her.”

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“You faced down Voldemort. You could have died at any moment.”

“I wanted to die,” Severus muttered. 

Potter sucked in another breath. “I want you to be happy.”

“Christ.” Severus pushed out of his chair. He stomped to the kitchen, hoping Potter wouldn’t follow him.

Potter hovered in the doorway as Severus made tea like a Muggle. His hands shook as he filled the kettle from the tap. 

“You don’t have to hide here. You could have friends. You could have lovers.”

“What do you know about lovers?” Severus sneered.

“Not much,” Potter said, “but I know you could have them.”

Severus nearly dropped the kettle. “Villains don’t have lovers.”

“You’re not a villain.”

“Fine, _ugly_ men don’t have lovers.”

“I don’t think you’re ugly.”

Severus slammed the kettle onto his old hob. “I don’t need your pity. I don’t need your _blatant_ lies.”

Potter came over to him, and Severus didn’t realise he was backing away until his back hit the counter. Potter held out his fist, showing Severus the scar on the back of his hand. “I don’t tell lies, remember?”

Severus couldn’t bring himself to look up. Potter was taller than him now. It wasn’t by much, but it was enough to matter. 

Severus felt the heat of him and smelled his cologne. Potter’s chest and shoulders were broad now, and he was full of muscle and strength. Severus was an old man compared to him. He was shit smeared on the bottom of his boot. 

“Please,” Potter said, and touched his shoulder.

“Don’t,” Severus croaked.

“I couldn’t have done it without you. _He_ would have won if it wasn’t for your sacrifices. You should be proud. You should be excited to start a new, better chapter in your life.”

“You have changed.” Severus shivered. “I don’t like it.”

“The war was so terrible. All those months on the run … I wouldn’t have survived without your help.”

“I killed Dumbledore … I’m the reason your mum is dead. You should _hate_ me.”

“I don’t hate you, Severus.”

Severus pushed him hard, but Potter just rocked back on his heels. “Stop saying my name.” 

“Draco and his mum want you to visit them.”

Severus jerked his head up. “ _Draco_? Are you mates now or just in the habit of calling all Slytherins by their first name?”

“I want to be his mate.” Potter’s gaze was challenging. “Come on, Severus. They want to see you.”

“No … I couldn’t go back there … not yet.”

“I understand,” Potter said gently. “Can they visit you here then?”

Severus covered his face. “I suppose.”

“You will answer your door? You will let them in?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Potter stepped back. The kettle was whistling, and he waved his wand to silence it. “I need to get back to the Ministry now.”

Severus levitated the kettle to the counter. “I never want to see you again.”

“Too bad,” Potter said. He was grinning.

*

Severus had trouble sleeping over the next week. He was nervous about Potter returning. He expected him to appear on his doorstep at all hours of the day. A neighbor slammed a car shut at ten at night and Severus scurried to his window. He barely let himself acknowledge his disappointment when he didn’t see Potter waiting for him on the other side.

He didn’t want Potter to come back. _Of course_ he didn’t want to see Potter again. He just couldn’t stop _thinking_ about him.

Eight days after Potter visited, Severus sat down to read his morning paper. The blood drained from his face when he glimpsed the top headline: _HARRY POTTER DISAPPEARS_.


	2. The True Coward

Severus was a coward now. He was useless. Harry Potter had been kidnapped, and Severus hadn’t left his old house. 

_What do you expect me to do?_ he yelled at the peeling walls. _I can’t track him down by myself!_

How many more times must he save Harry Potter?

_The Daily Prophet_ reported that Potter disappeared while on a routine training mission. He had been surrounded by seasoned Aurors who would rather take a curse to the face than let anything happen to the Boy Who Saved the World. 

Severus imagined him tied up somewhere, muscles bulging as he tried to escape his constraints. He imagined him thrashing, his Auror robes now shredded, his capable body covered in grime and sweat. 

Severus fumed in his bathtub, his skinny legs as pale as fish bones, his needy cock competing with his rage. _The Ministry wants nothing to do with me_ , he told his leaking tap. _They will laugh in my face. They’d rather arrest me than let me help find him_.

He stomped down to his potions lab and threw himself into brewing. He brewed until his hands ached from slicing and his eyes throbbed in their sockets. He almost burned his first batch of pain relieving potion. This version was especially good for chronic joint pain because he added finely sliced squid suckers. Most of his customers were old.

_Think of the nans,_ he thought. 

When he was done, he staggered up to his lounge and started. Somebody was banging on his door. He rushed to open it. Hope churned in his stomach.

Draco Malfoy stood on the other side, his face red. “Where were you? I’ve been knocking for ages!”

Severus opened and closed his mouth. Potter hadn’t come. Potter was kidnapped. He was possibly _dead_. Of course he hadn’t come. 

“Are you going to let me in?” Draco was staring at the nasty scar on Severus’ neck.

“Yes, of course,” Severus said, and stepped aside. The bite was mostly healed but the bloody snake had made a mess of his neck. He couldn’t remember Potter staring at the scarring. 

They wandered into his kitchen so Severus could make tea for his guest. He realised his mistake a moment before Draco saw all the newspapers piled up on his table. Severus felt his cheeks burn. Potter covered most of the print. 

“So you’ve heard too,” Draco said softly. 

“Of course I’ve heard. I’m sure all of wizarding Britain is wondering what happened.”

Draco stared for a long moment at Potter’s face. Severus watched him. He thought he recognised something in Draco’s expression. 

“You don’t hate him anymore,” Severus said.

Draco gulped. He pushed away the newspaper. “Are you going to make tea or what?”

Severus silently made tea with his wand and directed a cup to Draco. Draco had grown up, too. His nose was still too pointy but there was something pretty about his eyes. Severus realised he had Narcissa’s eyes. 

Draco felt his gaze and lifted his lip in a sneer. “You have something to say about my appearance?”

“You are looking well,” Severus said quietly. Whereas Potter made Severus yell and lose control, Draco always made Severus turn cold, calm, methodical. Draco needed to be _taught_. He needed to learn how not to be so damn weak. 

Draco was still sneering. “I was talking to Potter before he disappeared. He said he visited you.”

Severus blinked. “Do you think I had something to do with his disappearance?”

“You weren’t his biggest fan.”

Severus grabbed the table. It was all too disorienting. “There was a time when you wanted the Dark Lord to kill him.”

Draco closed his eyes for a moment. “Don’t say his name.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with Potter’s disappearance.” Severus hesitated. “In fact, I am … interested in his safety.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve read in all the new books. I read you were actually Dumbledore’s man. I read you were in love with Potter’s mum.”

Severus stared down at his tea. He hated that _Draco Malfoy_ knew about his love for Lily. “Why are you here, Draco? What do you want me to do for you?”

“It’s not like that.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “You’ve forgiven me then? I ruined your chance at glory. I got in your way of murdering one of the most powerful wizards of all time.”

Draco laughed bitterly. “Don’t make me say it.”

“I think you need to say it.” Severus’ voice was cold.

Sighing, Draco said, “Thank you for saving me. We both know I should be dead. We both know I was too stupid to live.”

“You _were_ very stupid.”

There was anger in Draco’s eyes. “Fine, yes. I am stupid. I will forever be an idiot.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Look,” Draco said. “I never thought you had something to do with Potter’s disappearance. I’m actually here because … because I think I know something.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I said _no_. Go to the Aurors. I can’t help you.” Severus stood and Draco jumped up, too.

“You haven’t even heard what I know!”

“I don’t care what you know.”

Draco gaped at him. “The way Potter talked about you … I thought something had changed.”

“What did he say about me?”

“He talked as if you meant something to him!”

“Draco,” Severus said, exhaustion pulling at his words. “Go to the Ministry and tell Kingsley Shacklebolt whatever you know about Potter’s disappearance.”

“I can’t do that!”

“Don’t be a coward, Draco.”

Draco’s expression crumpled. “You know what they did to my father. I don’t want to end up in Azkaban too. Don’t you understand? They might blame me.”

“Of course they might blame you!” Severus said. “That is the world we live in now. What did I tell you before you took the Dark Mark? I told you to think about it. I told you you had other options.”

“You never said that! You never said I had other options.”

Severus couldn’t remember his exact words to the silly boy. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said quietly. “You made your choice. Now you must live with the consequences.” 

Draco looked down at all the newspapers. He touched Potter’s grinning face with gentle fingers. “Don’t you care what happens to him?” His gaze lingered on the photograph.

The light bulb above their heads shattered. Yelping, Draco threw himself to the side.

“My apologies,” Severus said, glass shards in his hair. “Everything Muggles make break too damn easily.”

Draco glanced at the ceiling worriedly. “Does that happen a lot to Muggle lights?”

“Yes,” Severus lied. He cast _Evanesco_ to clear the shards. 

Severus stared at Draco. Draco saw something in his expression, and looked away. 

“Are you still betrothed to Astoria Greengrass?”

Draco shifted uncomfortably. “I haven’t seen Astoria in months … Mother is not pleased.”

Severus continued to stare at him. “Have you not seen her because of Potter?”

All the color drained from Draco’s face. “What are you trying to say?”

“You tell me.” Severus had gone so cold he barely felt his mouth move.

“Fuck you!” Draco’s face contorted in rage. He looked very much like Lucius then. 

“Potter is engaged to Ginny Weasley.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Am I mistaken? Let’s look together for their engagement photo in _the Prophet_.”

“Stop it! I will leave, okay? I won’t ask for your help again.”

Severus crossed his arms. “Good.”

Draco paused in the doorway. “I should have listened to you about Dumbledore. I should never have let Death Eaters into Hogwarts. I will regret that until I die.”

Severus didn’t say anything.

“At least I’m trying to do better. We both know you are the true coward now.

“Answer Mother’s owls. She wants to hear from you.”

When Draco had gone, Severus set fire to all the newspapers on his kitchen table. He let them burn until the fire singed the end of his mum’s ugly curtains. He coughed and sputtered, and wiped the tears from his face.

*

Later, when Severus was alone in his bed trying to sleep, he remembered what Albus had said. Did he truly believe that ghost Albus had sent him back so he could save Potter once again?

 _What if the Dark Lord is behind this?_ The thought needled him. He tried to remember which Death Eaters had gotten away. He hadn’t paid much attention to the news after the war. He’d been too busy slathering his neck in salves and withering in his grief. 

What if former Death Eaters had Potter? What could Severus possibly do about it?

He could go to Malfoy Manor, finally hear what Draco had to tell him.

“No!” He gritted his teeth and glared at his ceiling. His cock was so hard it stuck to the sheets. 

Severus refused to touch himself. He knew what images would come to mind if he did. He would see Draco and Potter. He would see Draco on his knees for Potter, or bending over a desk for him. 

He would see Potter’s gorgeous eyes rolling up as he fucked Draco’s throat. He wanted to see Potter’s cock. He wanted to touch it.

He remembered Potter’s smell and the heat of his hand on his wrist. Potter had touched him. He’d crowded him against the wall.

“Goddamnit,” Severus groaned. He was coming, his cock jerking heavily. He fisted himself quickly, milking every last drop. 

It was a pathetic, lonely orgasm, but it left him boneless and sated. It also cleared his mind.

It was time Severus stopped hiding away. He would return to Malfoy Manor.


	3. All I Ask of You

It took Severus four days to return to Malfoy Manor. _It is not my fault if the boy is dead_ , Severus thought. But he knew when he was lying to himself: Potter was no longer a boy and all the evidence he needed to find him could be waiting at the Manor.

Still, Severus dawdled. He had potions to brew and newspapers to read. He even ventured out to the Muggle supermarket heavily disguised. He’d run out of bread. 

He spent a whole day trying to replace his leaking tap in the bathroom. At first he used magic but the Muggle fixture didn’t respond well to his spells. God, did he hate every last corner of his ancestral home, nothing like the magical opulence of Malfoy Manor …

He lay in bed at night battling his thoughts. His mouth went dry when he considered going back to the place where the Dark Lord had reigned so thoroughly. Did Narcissa still use _the room_? Severus remembered poor Charity, how she had pleaded with him. He had done _nothing_. He’d let her die. _He_ should be the one dead. What was his life worth? He had no purpose. Not anymore. All he did was think about Potter. All he did was _fantasise_.

Severus was tired of selflessness and _sacrifice_. He didn’t want to be the one to save Potter. Not when Potter was engaged. Not when there was a possibility he was shagging -

“No!” He jumped from bed. He paced. “No! No!”

Severus would find a way to help Potter without going near him. He would tell Draco what to do. Bloody Shacklebolt could be the man of the hour. He didn’t care. Potter was _no one_ to him. He meant _nothing_.

Severus laid back down. He stared at his ceiling, dreading the next day. He didn’t sleep. He dreamed of Potter between his thighs nursing his cock.

*

In the morning, Severus left Spinner’s End only when he was confident his brewing potions would make it through the day without his help.

He took his time venturing to Wiltshire. He Apparated to a small village, then to a sunny forest. He allowed himself some time to admire the chatty birds and the whispering leaves. The fresh air felt good in his lungs. 

His last Apparition landed him in front of the Malfoy Manor gates. He almost raised his arm to pass through them. It was reflex. His stomach twisted sickly. 

Instead he tapped his wand against the wrought iron and waited respectfully. “Severus,” announced Narcissa’s voice, “how wonderful it is that you are here!”

The gates clicked open and he stepped past. Everything was the same. There were the brambles and the white peacocks. The Manor greeted him stiffly with its old dusty eyes.

Narcissa waited for him on the front steps. Her white blonde hair shone brilliantly in the late morning sunlight. 

She took his hands, squeezing. “You’ve come at last.”

Severus felt himself blush. He’d always found Narcissa quite pretty, and persuasive. “I’m deeply sorry. I have been busy.”

“Of course you have.” Not releasing his hands, she moved closer to inspect his neck. “I’m just so relieved your vocal cords weren’t damaged. Have you been to St Mungo’s?”

“No,” he said stiffly. 

“Yes, I suppose that’s best.” She released his hands. “We can’t be too careful these days. We don’t know who we can trust.”

They entered the Manor and its dark corridors swallowed the sunlight. 

“Is Draco at home?”

Narcissa’s smile slipped from her face. “That is something we need to discuss.”

Severus stopped. “What’s the matter?”

She shook her head. “Let’s discuss it over tea.”

They went into the drawing room where an army of house elves were setting out the tea. Severus glanced around. Thankfully they had put away (or destroyed) the wing back chair the Dark Lord had favoured. 

Severus took a seat by the roaring fire and accepted tea from an elf. Something moved out of the corner of his eye: Nagini. No, no. It was the flickering of the fire. He sipped his tea to calm himself. 

“Are you hungry?” Narcissa said. “There are sandwiches. Cucumber, I believe.”

It was almost lunchtime, but Severus was glad they were not sitting down for a formal lunch. He wanted nothing to do with that dining table. 

“I’m fine, thank you.”

She sipped her tea and watched him. He waited for her to speak. 

“Draco has not been seen for three days.”

Severus spilled his tea down his front. Cursing, he cast a cleaning spell. “What?”

“I find it quite odd, actually. He was acting strangely. In truth, he hasn’t been the same since the end of the war, but he seemed more anxious.”

Severus couldn’t speak. His mind was racing.

“He went to see _you_ , then disappeared. Isn’t that funny?” Narcissa watched him like a hawk. 

He cleared his throat. “It’s unfortunate.”

“Draco wouldn’t tell me what you two talked about. Isn’t that strange?”

“Yes,” Severus said very quietly. 

“Where is my son, Severus?”

He had to make a quick decision. Would it complicate matters if Narcissa knew? Maybe she could help him track down Draco. Had Draco really gone off to save Potter, or had he run away to save his own skin? _Blasted boy!_

“You have the same expression you did whenever you spoke to the Dark Lord. Back then, I thought it was reverent stoicism. Now I know you look like that when you are lying.”

Severus was going to sick up. He felt it brewing at the top of his stomach. “Please don’t speak of the war.”

“Where is my son!”

“Narcissa, please.”

Tears flooded her eyes. “You know something, Severus. What is it? Did he run off with someone? I know he doesn’t want to marry Astoria. _What do you know_?”

Severus clasped the arms of his chair and didn’t move. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. 

A house elf appeared with a pop. “You must come quick, mistress! Dinky made fire in the kitchens!”

“ _Again_?” Narcissa said. “I will be right back, Severus.”

Narcissa went with the elf to the kitchens. Severus considered fleeing. He didn’t owe anything to Narcissa, and he would probably have more luck finding Draco and Potter without her meddling.

Severus was about to stand when another elf popped into existence. The elf held an inconspicuous envelope. “Master asked Dinky to give this to Severus Snape, sir.”

Frowning, Severus took the envelope. He hoped it was not from Lucius. The man was in Azkaban, and Severus was not about to help him in any way. “What else did your master say?”

“Master said not to open it in front of the mistress, sir. Master said to find him as quickly as possible, sir.”

“Find him?”

There was the sound of clicking footsteps and the elf Disapparated the moment before Narcissa returned to the drawing room. She looked furious.

“There was no fire! Those house elves are going mad.”

Severus casually slipped the envelope into his pocket. He made it seem like he was patting for his wand. “I’m afraid I must go.”

“I thought we were friends, Severus.”

“We are.” He went over to her to grasp her hands. “I don’t know what happened to Draco, not yet, but I will do my best to find out.”

Her expression relaxed. “That’s all I wanted.” 

“I know.” He squeezed her hands and let go. “Try not to fret too much.”

“My husband is in Azkaban and my son has disappeared. All I do is fret.”

He wanted to touch her face, bring some comfort to her. Instead he went for the door. “I will see myself out. Thank you for the tea.”

“Find him, Severus.”

Severus stalked away.

*

Severus didn’t head straight home. The thought of returning right away to his Muggle prison made him shudder so he Apparated to the first pub that came to mind: the Leaky Cauldron.

It wasn’t the best place to be if you were a former Death Eater. Not by far. But it was dim and smoky, and he was pretty sure he could get away with reading the contents of the envelope in peace.

What he hadn’t counted on was running into Neville Longbottom. 

Longbottom was working the bar, a towel draped over one shoulder. Severus struggled not to stare. Longbottom was enormous now. He looked like he could take down a dragon with his bare hands. 

Longbottom recognised him immediately. “Headmaster.”

“Just a pint. Please.” The _please_ nearly killed Severus. He had never been a fan of Longbottom. The idiot boy had ruined too many of his cauldrons.

“Coming right up, sir.” Longbottom’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

Severus sat at the dark corner of the bar and removed the envelope from his robes. He opened it casually as if it were any other correspondence. Without reading the first line, he rolled his eyes. He wanted anyone watching to think he found the letter mundane and annoying. 

The letter was in Draco’s handwriting. Severus’ heart sped up. 

_Dear Severus,_

_If you are reading this then it means I haven’t returned. I’ve gone to find Potter. You would not listen to me, but I listened to you: I am not a coward. Not anymore._

_What do you remember about the Lestranges? I remember too much. Aunt Bellatrix lived with us in the Manor. She lived there because she was in love with ~~the Dark Lord~~ … him. I’m sure you know this. I’m sure you are rolling your eyes right now. I just need you to understand. _

_Aunt Bellatrix lived with us and she talked too much. Sometimes she would never shut up. When she wasn’t mooning over … you know, she boasted about her plans for after the war. She wanted to retire to a rural property owned by the Lestranges. She wanted to raise her future children there. She once told Greyback what would happen if anyone ever stole that future from her. She said something like, “You would enjoy its depravity, Greyback. The curse is beastly.”_

_After the war, I became worried. Aunt Bellatrix did not get that future, and my family played a sizable role in stopping it. If it weren’t for Mother, Harry Potter would be dead. If I had given him up to Aunt Bellatrix, the war’s entire trajectory would have changed. I was worried about the curse. I looked in the Manor’s library. I tore apart every shelf. Mother was not pleased. She scolded the elves instead of me. They should have stopped me, she said._

_Merlin, I’m rambling. It’s very late right now and I’m finding it hard to think._

_I found a book. I’ve included it inside the envelope. **Don’t touch it**. I’m pretty sure it carries its own curse. The book’s a recent history of the Lestranges. It was published in like 1919 or something. It talks about what the Lestranges used to do to Muggles. They would take them to this property near Kilnsey and do something terrible to them._

_The thing is, Potter disappeared near Conistone, which is virtually on top of Kilnsey. I don’t have proof that is where Potter ended up, but I can’t imagine that Aunt Bellatrix didn’t plan some type of revenge just in case Potter won …_

_All I ask of you is to find me. Severus, you are one of the most powerful wizards I will ever know. If there is anyone who can save us, it is you._

_I know what I’ve done is stupid -_

Beer spilled all over the letter. Severus shouted and went for his wand. He had been so engrossed in reading that he hadn’t noticed Longbottom approach. 

“So sorry, sir!” Longbottom picked up the letter to cast a drying spell on it. Then he accidentally dropped it to the floor.

“IDIOT!” Severus bellowed. “USELESS DUNDERHEAD!”

“Old habits and all.” Longbottom smiled ruefully and gave him back the now dried letter. “I promise I’m not that clumsy anymore.”

“Leave me!” Severus inspected the letter for any damage. Draco’s words were only a little smeared. “And I expect my pint to be on the house!” 

“Yes, sir.” Longbottom scurried away. 

Severus covered his face. _All I ask of you is to find me_. He laughed. Such a small favour. 

Taking his hands away from his face, he finished reading the letter. The rest of it didn’t include important information. It was just Draco wallowing in self pity. 

Would Severus take his own advice? Did he trust the Ministry with such sensitive information? Severus shivered; he swore he could feel Albus’ penetrating gaze. His next move had to be calculated.

Severus placed the letter into its envelope and slid it all back into his pocket. There was no way he would inspect the cursed book in public. Not with Longbottom around.

Severus had a lot to contemplate. He headed for the door but stopped. Longbottom was watching him, he just knew it. He looked but Longbottom was furiously scrubbing the counter. 

Snorting, Severus left the pub.


	4. I Want to Devour Him

Draco made it to Kilnsey. It was pouring but he didn’t chance casting a waterproof spell. Earlier that morning, he Apparated a good two miles away and trekked the last stretch on foot. His shoes were now covered in mud.

Draco hadn’t a clue what he was doing. It wasn’t like he had actual proof that Potter ended up on Lestranges’ property. He just had a gut feeling so strong he couldn’t fathom not taking action. He couldn’t fathom sitting around and _doing nothing_. Like Severus. The old bastard had really lost his way. It was obvious he was a bit touched in the head now. He had seemed so pathetic in that filthy Muggle house that Draco struggled even _looking_ at him.

The forest stood between Draco and the property. He assumed it was some type of manor. The book had called it Wyrmborne.

The next challenge was unlocking all the curses that protected Wyrmborne. Draco had always wanted to be a cursebreaker. He’d read up on it but not thoroughly. Before the war, he knew he’d never have to take a job. After the war, he knew the Ministry would never employ him.

But Draco had consumed his fair share of cursebreaking theory and practices. Reading had brought him comfort during the war. He’d hid in the Malfoy Manor’s library and imagined himself a different person, someone with bravery, someone who was admired. Cursebreakers were admired. They were respected. Draco wanted to put his life on the line and be commended.

He finally wanted to be the hero. 

Aiming his wand in front of him, Draco drew closer. The trees parted for him begrudgingly. The trek to the forest had been dark and wet, but now the foliage loomed over him and blocked out the sky. Everything was damp shadow and mossy bark. 

The strange thing was Draco heard no animals. No birds rustled dripping branches, no rodents dashed beneath lily pad mulch. He stopped for a moment and listened hard. There was only the sound of his thundering heart. 

As he drew deeper into the forest, he felt for the brush of a curse. The books said it felt like a nip, like a creature’s languid warning. Stomach sinking, he realised he didn’t sense anything. He walked and walked, and soon the forest was opening up. 

The trees abruptly stopped. They said, _We go no farther. You’re on your own_. 

Draco stepped into the clearing. The first thing he noticed was all the blood. The rain hadn’t washed it away, not entirely, and now the grounds slurped up a crimson soup. 

There were bodies. Almost too many to count. They were small and furry, and Draco crouched closer. Rabbits. Something out here was killing enough to feed an army. 

Something was watching him. Draco looked up, and discovered the manor. It had sneaked up on him. He stared at its battered face, not backing down. They glowered at one another. 

Draco tightened his grip on his wand and strode forward. His heart was pounding so quickly he could barely feel his legs. He had come for whatever was inside that manor. 

The gate leaned drunkenly, and Draco easily pushed through it. He followed a trail of blood. The path had once been lined with rose bushes but now it was just a thicket of thorns. 

Black ivy wormed into the broken windows of the manor, carpeting its face, choking it. Two raven statues guarded the dilapidated entrance. The jagged double doors looked like a howling mouth. 

Draco felt like the biggest idiot to ever live as he easily pushed open the doors. Dusty shadows greeted him. He should turn back, run away. He should go back to Mother.

Something propelled him forward. Only Mother cared about him. Only she believed in him. What did his future hold? Nothing. If he were the type of person to run away now, then he was the type of person to marry Astoria Greengrass. If he turned back now, he would become a coward married to a woman he didn’t love. There were things he had to find out, things he had to experience. He stepped forward to know himself. 

Draco was sure he heard whimpering. Blood roared in his ears. He followed the faint sound, stumbling over crippled tables, headless chairs. Most of the furniture had been torn to pieces. 

The whimpering took him to a cracked bedroom door. He saw a crumpled form on the floor. He wanted to stand there for a long moment, thinking, planning, but all the dust itched his nose: He sneezed.

Milky light forced its way into the room. The form stood and stepped into the light. Draco blinked. It was Potter, he _knew_ it was Potter, but his brain didn’t compute. 

Potter was covered in dirt and blood streaked his mouth. He was starkers. “Malfoy?” His voice sounded like a growl. 

Draco stared at his cock. It was stupid. He was about to get his throat ripped out, but he couldn’t look away. He really hoped Potter was a shower, not a grower, because _bloody hell_.

Potter moved closer and Draco stumbled back. 

“You shouldn’t be here, Malfoy.” Potter’s mouth wobbled over his words. He had fangs like a beast. 

“What happened to you?”

Potter sucked in air. “You need to run. _Right now_.”

Draco stumbled back again. Defensive spells flooded his mind. He didn’t know any that took down a werewolf.

Potter came at him. Draco screamed and sprinted blindly down the dark corridor. Draco’s cries came out as laughter. A naked man was chasing him. The symbolism was a little too on the nose. 

“You can’t leave, Malfoy!” 

Draco thought he was headed for the front entrance but something inside him urged him deeper into the manor. Something inside him confirmed Potter was right.

Draco swerved into a random room, and slammed the door shut. He yelled “ _Colloportus_!” then spelled a mountain of debris in front of the door. 

Potter threw his body into the door. He howled and tore at the wood. Draco looked for windows but it was just his luck that he ran into a room that had no exits. He pressed his knuckles into his eyes, urging himself to think. What spell could he use against Potter?

The door cracked down the middle. Potter would break through at any moment. His howls grew louder. Then it came to Draco: _Bestia Strangulo_. 

Draco prepared himself. He raised his wand and widened his stance. Potter burst through the door, showering splinters. He rushed into the room in a crouch, like a grotesque dog. 

“ _Bestia Strangulo_!” Nothing happened.

Potter scampered over the debris, his fangs gleaming. He pounced on Draco, and they fell back against the wall. Potter was burning up, his breath reeking of death, and Draco felt his cock. 

Draco yelled the spell again: “ _Bestia Strangulo_! Best - _Strangulo Bestia_!”

Suddenly Potter was soaring back. His whimper was choked, full of betrayal. A kicked dog. 

Opening his eyes, Draco had to blink several times before he understood. Potter was now chained to the wall. He thrashed, and the shackle around his neck squeezed his throat. 

“I can help you,” Draco said once Potter calmed down. 

Potter stared at him like he was a bloody steak. He even drooled a bit. “No one can help me.”

“I can send for others. I’m sure you’d want Granger or Weasley -”

“No!” Potter roared.

Draco frowned. “Why not? Granger’s clever, isn’t she? She will get Shacklebolt. She will know what to do.”

“If you involve them, Malfoy, I will rip your throat out.”

“You’ll rip my throat out no matter what I do!”

Potter growled low. “No one can leave this place. Can’t you feel it?”

Gulping, Draco said, “Yes.”

“I tried to get help … but my wand … it doesn’t work anymore.”

“What happened to you?” Draco wanted to hear Potter’s side of the story. He wanted to piece it together.

Potter squinted hard. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. “I don’t know. I … it’s hard to remember.”

“You should think about the people you love. You should think of things that remind you of you. You can control yourself, but you just need to remember what it means to be human.”

“Thanks for that, Malfoy. Really clever, you are.”

Draco ignored the jab. “You should think of your fiance. She must be so worried about you right now.”

Potter turned away. “I don’t want to think about Ginny.”

“If nothing else, Severus will come for us. I left a letter for him.”

Potter lunged for Draco, the shackle snapping his neck back. He bit the air, trying to tear flesh.

“He will help you, Potter! It’s a good thing!”

Potter shuddered. “You idiot, Malfoy.”

“I don’t understand!”

“If Severus comes here, I _will_ murder him.”

“You don’t know that.”

Potter pressed his open mouth to the floor. He pooled drool on the carpet. “I want him, Malfoy. I want to devour him.”


	5. Too Shocked to Move

Severus wasn’t prepared. He wasn’t _willing_. Still, he set off for bloody Kilnsey. After reading Draco’s letter, he knew he had dawdled too much. If Draco and Potter ended up killed, he would blame himself for the rest of his days.

Severus hadn’t been able to open the book. It was wrapped in powerful dark magic, and he didn’t have the time to trick it into trusting him. A lot of dark artifacts were like that. They were snooty and classist; they only wanted to be touched by the purest of pure-blood hands. 

This was why he didn’t go to the Ministry. He imagined all that he would need to do to trick _them_ into believing him. He imagined them trying to open the book. They would probably sic their hoards of Unspeakables on it. The whole investigation would get tied up in protocol and stupidity. 

No, Severus had to go it alone. Enough time had been wasted. By him. By everyone else. _Draco could be wrong_ , insisted a small voice in his head. Severus wanted to believe that voice. He wanted to take refuge in it. He was so sick of drowning in his own thoughts. 

Severus found himself in a dense forest. Foreboding oozed from the foliage. There was something that didn’t want him here. He felt its breath on the back of his neck. He knew an enchantment when he saw it. He thought about poor Quirrell, lost in a forest, pulled along by some powerful unseen force. The bloke hadn’t been half bad before the Dark Lord took up shop in his skull. 

There were also footsteps in the drying mud. It looked like it’d poured a few days prior, and someone had recently left their gooey mark. Severus followed the tracks. They were headed in the right direction. The enchantment pressed down on him. It growled: _No outsiders_. 

Then the trees parted and revealed a small cottage. Severus halted. The cottage looked alone, needy. It looked frightened to be left vacant in such a dark place. Severus stepped closer, his narrowed eyes taking in every little detail. Despite its crumbling mortar, the windows gleamed almost cheerfully. They beckoned him inside. The chimney wasn’t collapsed, the path to the front door unobstructed. There was not a cobweb in sight. 

A chill ran down his spine. Albus had once come across a similar enchantment. He had told Severus the story over tea, before Potter had come to Hogwarts, when there had still been time to take tea together and not spin war time plots. It had been a friendly young man, bloody attractive, who offered to shelter Albus for the night. Albus almost said yes. He almost let himself believe what could not be true. Afterward, Albus found out he had tread too closely to a cursed castle, and the man had been nothing more than the castle’s attempt at murdering him in his sleep. 

Severus took a cautious step back. He didn't know what horrors awaited him behind those cheerful windows, but he was not about to find out. 

Severus pressed on. The air thickened around him, like he was suddenly in a marsh. A raven flew at his head, its wings tousling his hair. He ducked, not wanting to use magic yet. Then a second raven fell upon him, screaming. It was joined by a third, then a fourth. They snapped at his ears, his nose. They tore at his clothing like the fabric was delicious. 

Slashing the air, Severus cast a nonverbal defensive spell, one of the most powerful he knew. The ravens were flung back by a powerful wind. Severus was left gasping on the wet forest ground. He struggled to calm his breathing. It was too early to gasp. 

He got to his feet and continued on with his head bent. Nearby, he heard a woman screaming. He didn’t stop. He knew in his bones no other human was in the forest with him. The woman was begging, and it now sounded like she was right next to him: _Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!_

He didn’t let himself think. He struggled to breathe. The air … the air was toxic. It burned his lungs. His throat convulsed. 

Something dropped on his head. It wiggled against his scalp, catching in his hair. He brushed it away, and the something became somethings. Worms cascaded down his neck, seeking the inside of his ears, the warm spot beneath his collar. 

He wanted to look up but stopped himself. He already knew: Worms fell from the sky like rain. He batted them from his ears too hard, their innards smearing his fingers. He sheltered his head the best he could, and carried on. 

It was a storm of worms. They fell so hard he could barely see. 

Severus fled. He felt suffocated by their little writhing bodies. He felt them all over. They wanted inside him. 

Severus broke through the storm, and the worms stopped. He tore off his cloak, beating it against the ground. He tore his fingers through his hair, desperate to get them out.

With his cloak back on, he continued. He didn’t dare stop. 

Then Potter was in front of him. He wore his ruby Auror robes, his large hand tightening around his raised wand. His wand was pointed at Severus’ chest. 

_You killed her_ , Potter growled. His gaze was full of rage. 

_I want you to kill me_. Severus didn’t feel himself speak. 

Potter stepped closer. He was grinning in disgust. _You want so much from me, Snivellus. It’s pathetic._

“You’re not real,” Severus said. 

Potter was now right in front of him. Potter leaned so close their lips almost brushed. _You are a pervert, Snivellus. It’s truly revolting what goes on in your head._

Severus ran. He didn’t want to cast another spell. He didn’t want to feed the enchantment. 

Severus charged through the trees. They pulled at his robes, desperate to stop him. He slipped in mud and tripped over roots. Worms still wiggled against his skin. 

He stumbled on the edge of an enormous clearing. He didn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t catch his breath.

There was a man covered in blood. At first his back was to Severus, but he swerved when he heard Severus’ stumbling steps. The man was feasting on a rabbit. Severus stared. It was Potter. Another ghost. Potter was shocked to see him. He dropped the rabbit and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Severus was too shocked to move. Potter was completely naked. The forest had truly tapped into the depravity in Severus. 

Groaning, Potter fell to his hands and knees. He writhed on the ground, his perk arse in the air. He pulled up the grass, fisting whole chunks of soil. 

Potter was speaking. He was growling. Severus wanted to go to him, help him in some way, but he didn’t dare move closer. 

“ _Finally_ ,” said a voice behind him. “We’ve been waiting for ages.” It was Draco, and his wand was pointed at Potter. Draco wrinkled his nose at Severus. “You’ve got worms in your hair.”

Potter let out a hoarse growl. “Get him away from me!”

A protection spell was on Severus’ lips, but he was too slow. Potter tackled him to the ground, his large fangs going for his neck.


	6. To Die of Loneliness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! June was a terrible month. With everything going on in the world, I had no desire to write.
> 
> Thanks for reading.

“ _Strangulo Bestia_!” 

Potter was yanked from Severus but his claws dug into his robes, shredding. Severus cried out - the claws had punctured skin. 

Severus staggered to his feet. He pressed a palm to his front and it came away with blood. 

Potter thrashed on the ground, growling, yelling. It was terrible to see. 

“I have everything under control.” Draco grinned confidently. 

“You let him roam around unattended?” 

Draco’s grin slipped away. “Yes, but we leave each other alone for the most part. Potter now knows what will happen to him if he tries to attack me.”

“Did you find a house?”

“Yes, a manor. Follow me.” Draco marched away, dragging Potter along like a bewildered dog. It was a disgraceful sight. Severus couldn’t bear it.

Severus cancelled Draco’s spell, then cast his own nonverbally. Potter fell to the ground, face-first. He didn’t move.

Draco gaped. “You’ve murdered him!”

“No.” Severus slashed his wand through the air, and Potter levitated. “I’ve only put him in a slumber.”

“I had it under control!” Draco yelled.

Severus marched to him and jabbed him in the chest with the point of his wand. “The boy defeated the Dark Lord. He doesn’t deserve to be dragged about like a bloody beast.”

Draco opened and closed his mouth. “We aren’t boys! Not anymore!”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Now, show me the manor.” He followed Draco with Potter trailing behind them like a ghost. 

The manor appeared like it held a grudge. It was a dark presence, a wild presence. Severus tried hard not to look into its glinting windows. 

The interior was a disaster. Severus suppressed a shiver as he crossed the threshold. Decades-long neglect had gutted the rooms, but Severus could tell Draco had done nothing to clean the place up. 

“How are you feeding yourself?” Severus asked.

Draco directed him to the underground kitchen. The air down here was wet and the walls dripped water like tears. It was like they were right back in the Hogwarts dungeons. 

Draco pulled open a large cupboard filled with food supplies. Severus held his breath, expecting the reek of rot, but instead he was entranced by the wonderful scent of freshly baked bread. 

“The food replenishes itself,” Draco said softly.

“A powerful spell.”

“These people - my relatives - they were rich enough not to need something like this. I think the spell is only here for a prisoner, don’t you think?”

“Yes.”

Draco looked into Severus’ eyes. “They meant for him to go mad. They meant for him to die of loneliness.”

“I wonder where all the rabbits come from.”

Draco waved at the cupboard. “Must be a spell like this one.”

Severus trudged back up to the first level. Potter floated in midair, waiting patiently. 

Severus pressed a hand to his chest. The claw wound was still bleeding. “This place is a disaster. You’ve been here for days and you’ve done nothing to help your situation.”

“I was waiting for you!” Draco said.

“What if I had never come?” Severus snarled. 

Draco looked away, tearful. Severus wanted to smack him. 

“It was like this when I got here,” Draco said. “I didn’t _cause_ this muck.”

Severus kicked away rubbish. Using his wand, he threw open dust-caked curtains. The dust hovered in the air like a living thing. The sunlight was weak and milky. 

“You are on cleaning duty,” Severus said to Draco.

“But it’s all cursed!”

“ _Deal with it_.” Severus turned to Potter. “I will deal with him.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. He stood there, not moving. Severus Conjured a broom and threw it at him. “Sweep.”

Draco held the broom like it was consumed by maggots. His mouth twisted. 

Severus guided Potter to a lonely part of the manor. He found a bedroom, some opulent forgotten thing. The bed looked like a wedding cake. 

Severus tore away lace to make room for Potter’s bloody form. He guided him to the soft mattress. Severus stood over him and watched him sleep. 

_He has Lily’s mouth_ , Severus thought, surprised he remembered. _A woman’s mouth._

“Fuck.” Severus covered his face. “I shouldn’t be here.”

He wished Albus was alive. Fuck, wasn’t that pathetic?

“Snap out of it.” Severus Conjured a flannel, a bucket, a bar of soap. He cast _Aguamenti_ to fill the bucket. 

Hands shaking, he began to clean Potter. He started at his chest, moving the flannel in circular motions. Potter’s nipples came alive under his attention. Severus wanted to lick those nipples. 

“No,” Severus told himself sternly. His cock was growing heavy. 

Severus drew the flannel up, to Potter’s shoulders and neck. Potter was covered in cuts and scrapes, and Severus wanted to kiss every one. 

Potter’s shoulders really were broad, full of power. In comparison, Severus’ shoulders looked like twigs. Severus should have hated him for it - Severus had always hated idiotic burly jocks - but it just deepened Severus’ hunger.

Severus now knew Potter wasn’t like that. Potter was a hero. He bursted with courage.

Severus cleaned the flannel and changed out the bloody water. Then he focussed on Potter’s face, so very carefully. Potter needed a shave. 

Breathing deeply, Severus moved down, down to Potter’s groin, his thighs, his legs. He was desperate not to stare at Potter’s cock, but it was a losing battle. He ran the flannel over his shaft, his bollocks, trying, trying to be methodical.

Potter’s cock twitched and Severus snatched his hand away. 

“Clothes,” Severus growled. 

Severus marched to the old wardrobe and threw open its doors. Everything inside was moth-eaten, barely more than rags. He left the room, closing the door behind him. He found other rooms, other wardrobes, tearing through holey garments until he found some trousers that had survived. 

Draco waited for him outside Potter’s bedroom. “What are you doing in there?”

Severus threw open the door and waved Draco inside. Draco looked at Potter starkers on the bed, then at Severus, his eyebrows raised. 

Severus threw the trousers at Draco. “Put them on him,” he said viciously. 

Draco gaped at him. “What?”

“Don’t use magic.”

Draco looked at Potter, then at the trousers. His face turned red. “No,” he said, giving Severus the trousers back.

“Fine,” Severus said, and pushed him out the room. He slammed the door in Draco’s face.


	7. No Chains

_No more touching_ , Severus thought, holding the trousers. With his wand, he levitated Potter once more and guided the trousers up Potter’s legs and over his arse. On the second try he got Potter’s trousers to button. 

Severus dropped Potter to the bed. Then he began to pace.

Severus needed to know the severity of Potter’s condition. Potter couldn’t stay immobilized forever; but there was an enormous danger in waking him up. Severus flexed his wrists. He wasn’t used to battle, not anymore. He had grown too weak, too slow; he wasn’t convinced he could stop Potter in time if he became _distracted_. And a half-naked growling Potter was the epitome of distraction. 

_No chains, no collars_ , Severus decided. It was too … violating. As he’d told Draco, Potter didn’t deserve such treatment. 

A barrier. That was what Severus needed. He knew many barrier spells, countless, but the barrier couldn’t be lethal and it couldn’t be cloudy or obstructive. Glaring at the wall, Severus filed through his memory, trying to remember the perfect spell. 

Severus raised his wand. “ _Corporis Carcerem_.” Even Potter knew such a spell. It was gentle enough to be taught to school children. 

The air shivered around Potter. Potter would be able to move around the room but he would not be able to attack. The only downside was it muffled sound, including speech. 

Severus pointed his wand at Potter. “ _Evigilate!_ ”

Potter opened his eyes. He frowned at the ceiling. “Potter!” Severus shouted.

Potter flailed. He tumbled out of the bed, landing on his hands and knees. There was a moment where he looked like he wanted to stand but then decided it took too much effort. 

Severus shouted some more: “Potter! Can you hear me? Do you understand me?”

“Shut up, will you?” Potter growled.

Severus’ mouth twisted. He almost said, “Fifty points from Gryffindor. Don’t talk back to me, Potter.” A few sparks erupted from his wand. “So you can speak.”

“What?”

Severus closed his eyes for a moment. He tried for an octave below shouting. “So. You. Can. Speak.” 

“You shouldn’t be here, Severus.”

“How do you feel? Headache? Dizziness?” 

“You need to leave as fast as possible. You must run away.”

“Have you been here for a full moon? Have you changed forms?”

“Take Draco with you. Both of you need to be far, far away from me.”

“Idiot,” Severus said softly. 

“What?”

“You’re an idiot; the biggest dunderhead in existence!”

Potter opened and closed his mouth. “Yeah, I am.”

They stared at each other in silence. Then Severus said, “We both know I can’t _run away_. Tell me what you already know.”

Potter dropped forward. He rubbed his forehead against the old floor. “You’re trapped here. It’s this bloody house.”

“Yes.”

Potter began to pant. “I’m going to kill you. That’s what this house wants. It wants me to rip out your throat; it wants me to _devour_ you.”

Severus shivered. His mouth went dry. “Yes, Potter,” he said. 

Suddenly Potter glared up at him, fiery green. “You must kill me then. Do it now before I can think about it. That was the hardest part of the war - walking to my death.”

“Get up!” Severus thundered. “Stop your _sniveling_ and get up!”

“You don’t understand - I can’t control myself.”

“Bollocks! Stand up right now.” 

Potter bared his teeth. “I _can’t_.”

“Damn you.” Severus cancelled the barrier spell and grabbed Potter by the shoulders. He yanked Potter to his feet. Potter seemed shocked by the contact. He stood shakily, his shoulders heaving in Severus’ grasp. Severus stepped back. “See? You can stand. What a miracle.”

Potter pounced, snarling. They crashed to the floor and hot pain shot through Severus’ back. Potter tried to bite his neck, his arm, but Severus blocked him. Severus put his hand on Potter’s bare chest. He meant to shove him away, but the hand just dragged down until his fingers brushed Potter’s navel.

They were both hard. Potter seemed to realise it the moment Severus did. It was enough to distract Potter. Severus grabbed his cock, _twisting_ , and Potter howled. Severus punched him as hard as he could in the face. Potter cried out and crumpled. 

Severus scrambled to his feet. He shouldn’t have cancelled the barrier. He hadn’t a clue what he was thinking. His hand burned, his knuckles already puffing up. It had been decades since he punched someone.

“Get up,” Severus said. “You _will_ learn how to control yourself.”

“No,” Potter said, panting hard. 

Severus twirled his wand. “You must know what I can do to you. I do not like being disobeyed.”

“Do whatever you want to me. I don’t care.”

Severus imagined himself Conjuring a whip. He took a shuddering breath. “Potter,” he said. “Think of your friends. Think of your fiance.” 

Potter growled at him. “Don’t fucking talk about them.”

Severus got down low, his wand poised. He spoke in Potter’s ear. “You know what you are, Potter? You’re a coward. You had one brave moment when you faced down the Dark Lord but now you are just back to being _pathetic_.”

Potter licked his cheek. Severus jerked back. “Lock me in this room with a few rabbits. I will survive and I won’t be a danger to you. I know that you and Draco are smart enough to find a way out of this house.”

Severus touched his wet cheek. Potter’s _tongue_ had been on him.

“This isn’t about being a coward,” Potter said. “I’m used to sacrificing myself. I’m not afraid.”

“Sacrifice is the idiot’s way out,” Severus said. “How about you use your two brain cells to stop and think for a moment?” 

“I don’t want to think!”

They glared at one another. They were both too stubborn for their own good. Sighing, Severus sat down on the bed. Albus had always told Severus he needed to be _nicer_ to the boy. 

Licking his lips, Severus said quietly: “Come here. Please.” He patted the bed. 

Potter’s eyes went wide. He stared for a long moment at Severus, then shuffled closer. He brushed against Severus as he sat down. 

“You are a good man,” Severus said, trying not to be distracted by Potter’s body. Severus’ voice was barely above a whisper. “The truth is I admire your courage.”

Potter let out a strangled breath. 

Severus struggled to find the right words. It was very dangerous to speak the truth, and he needed to be careful. “I am here because … I care about you. Draco cares about you as well. We understand that you don’t deserve this. Ultimately, we are here to right our wrongs.”

Potter was staring at his mouth. 

“Please,” Severus said, touching Potter’s hand, “let us help you.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Are you consenting?”

“I never thought you’d speak to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m an actual person.”

Severus pursed his lips. “It helps that you are now grown. I don’t consider children to be _people_.”

Potter gaped at him, horrified. Then they both burst into laughter. Severus hadn’t genuinely laughed in a very long time. Potter stopped to watch him, a little smile on his lips.

“You look different when you laugh.”

Severus looked away. He didn’t want Potter to see his blush. 

“See? You can control yourself,” Severus said. “You are just sitting here, talking to me.”

Potter curled his mouth, showing his fangs. “You have no idea how much I want to sink my teeth into you.”

Severus gently cupped Potter’s chin. “Open your mouth. Let me see.” Potter’s fangs gleamed with spit. “Remarkable,” Severus murmured. “You have kept your human body but with a beast’s teeth and claws.”

“It’s not just that,” Potter said, eyes hot. “My senses have changed … they are more intense.”

“How so?”

“I can taste you in the air.”

“Lovely,” Severus said casually. “What do I taste like?”

“I can’t say.” Potter shook his head, and Severus finally dropped his hand. “It’s too much.”

There was a knock on the door. Annoyed, Severus left the bed to answer it. Draco stood on the other side. He looked at Severus, then at Potter. He flushed. 

“I prepared dinner,” Draco said. 

Potter made his way to the door. The trousers hung low on his hips and his chest was stained pink like he was aroused. Draco could barely even look at him. 

“Thank you, Draco,” Severus said curtly. “Potter and I will join you at the dining table.”

“Good because I scrubbed that old table without magic, with my _hands_.”

Severus couldn’t imagine Draco scrubbing anything. He had always made Crabbe and Goyle clean up after him in Potions.

Potter grimaced. “I don’t think I can eat at a table.”

“You can at least attempt it.” Severus nodded to Draco. “Lead the way. We will discuss our future plans as we eat. Hopefully Potter will enlighten us about exactly what happened to him.”

“I don’t make any promises,” Potter said darkly.


	8. A Way to Resist

Draco had set out a feast of cold meats and crusty bread on an ancient dining table. Potter hovered just inside the room, shoulders hunched, mouth hanging open. 

Severus took hold of Potter and forced him into a high back chair. He pressed a fork and knife into Potter’s hand. “You _remember_ ,” Severus insisted. 

Above the table hung a gaudy chandelier cocooned in spider webs and dust. Wordlessly, Severus looked at Draco then pointed to the chandelier. 

“I will clean it tomorrow,” Draco huffed.

“Good,” Severus said, and sat down next to Potter. Potter held the fork and knife like he had two left hands. His claws prevented him from grasping the utensils firmly. 

Severus didn’t look at Potter. He cleaned his hands with a spell, one still swollen from the punch, and tucked into the feast. He made a sandwich of chicken and cucumbers, and his first bite was crisp and refreshing. He sat back in his chair, chewing. The chicken was juicy and full of flavour. Magic still managed to amaze Severus, even after all these years. 

Draco picked at his own sandwich and watched Potter nervously. Severus wanted to Hex him under the table for his lack of subtlety. Yes, Potter looked a bit strange, but he didn’t deserve to be gawked at. 

“Draco,” Severus growled, and Draco’s eyes snapped to him. 

“What?”

“Focus on your food. You still have a lot to do today.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “I do?”

“Yes,” Severus said quietly. “You will do these dishes, then wipe down the table again. Then there’s the drawing room; it’s a disaster and the sooner you begin clearing out its rubbish, the better off we will be.”

“I’m not your maid! I don’t understand why you can’t do it.”

Severus summoned his best glare - the glare that had caused hundreds of first years to sob. Draco’s expression tensed; it was obvious he was struggling not to show fear. 

Potter hacked at his food, his claws awkwardly gripping his fork and knife. He managed to spear a bit of beef and his fork hit his chin then his cheek before he managed to get it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully like he had forgotten the taste of anything other than raw rabbit.

Draco grimaced, his eyes once again trained on Potter. “Forcing him to eat like us is loads more humiliating than my collar spell.” 

Potter’s gaze darkened and his mouth twisted. Severus wanted to squeeze his hand reassuringly, but he forced himself to continue eating his sandwich like nothing was the matter. 

Potter dropped his utensils and stuffed a fistful of beef into his mouth. “No!” Severus roared. 

Draco jumped to his feet, wand drawn. “Let him eat the way he wants!”

“No!” Severus slammed his fist on the table. 

Potter ran out of the dining room. His pounding footsteps echoed down the corridor, then into the foyer. The front doors slammed. 

Severus came around the table to grab Draco. He shook him. “Don’t you ever interfere with my instruction again!”

“Why?” Draco clawed at Severus, trying to break his hold. “You just want to boss us around! You just want to keep me occupied while you shag Potter without his consent!” 

Severus turned cold. He let go of Draco and stepped back. “I have no idea what you mean,” he said, his voice arctic. 

“Oh, _please_. You don’t think I haven’t noticed? You shoved a broom in my hand and told me to clean the cobwebs so you could diddle Potter in private.” 

Severus was so angry he could barely think. “Why exactly did you come here, Draco?”

“Because I wanted to help Potter! I wanted to find out what my loony aunt did and break the curse!”

“What if it had been, Ronald Weasley? What if it had been Seamus Finnigan?”

“I would have done the same thing!”

“No, Draco, _no_. You may lie to yourself, but I refuse to let you lie to me.”

“You just want to control him!”

“Potter needs to _try_ to remember his … human life.”

“And what if we can’t fix him? What if he stays like this forever?”

“Then he will at least know how to eat properly with a knife and a fork!” 

“Who cares if he can eat properly if we don’t try to save him? Don’t you get it? If we don’t succeed, he will _die_ here.”

“I completely understand what’s at stake,” Severus said coldly. “Now, please, if you are done with your tantrum, begin your task of washing up.”

“I’m not going to be your maid!” Draco yelled. 

Severus was at his breaking point. He pointed a long bony finger in Draco’s face. His voice was so clipped it could cut teeth. “You are a spoiled little brat, Draco, and you will accomplish _nothing_ until you realise that. Don’t for a moment question what I can do to you, how I can _force_ you to do what I wish.

“ _You_ are the one who involved me in this mess. If you want my help and if you don’t want to end up _killed_ before this is all over, then I suggest you do what I bloody say.”

“You are too old for him!” 

Every plate on the table shattered. Severus sucked in a loud breath, annoyed that he was losing his grip on his magic. He was showing too much of his feelings. 

“Have you found Wyrmborne’s library?” Severus asked.

Draco was still staring at the plates, his mouth open. “Yes but the door is blocked by a spell. I was … waiting for you before I tried to break through.”

“That is what we will do tomorrow. Then you will copy any bit of useful information from that cursed book you lent me but I could not open. The cleaning of the drawing room is also important because we need a safe and _human_ space to question Potter about his memory. I thought perhaps that could happen over dinner, but I was wrong in my predictions.”

Draco made a face. After a moment, he said, “Yes, I understand.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Do not get in my way again. Do not question me in front of Potter again. We must come across as united or he will be too confused and jaded to resist the curse.”

“ _Is_ there a way to resist?”

“Yes, I believe so, but it will take a tremendous amount of work from all three of us.”

*

That night, Severus searched Wyrmborne’s property for Potter but could not find him. Clouds were rolling in and the moon had fled the sky. It was late and he retired to the room with the lavish bed. He kept the door open and crawled under the sheets. He listened for growls or whimpers, but sleep overwhelmed him before he heard anything.

He awoke in the middle of the night. Someone was licking his neck. Groggy, he buried his hand in thick unruly hair. The tongue was warm, so warm, and its strokes were soft and rhythmic. Potter was lapping at his scars. 

Severus didn’t push him away. He didn’t do much of anything. His eyes remained closed and he let himself enjoy the sensation. His cock grew heavy, and Potter let out a quiet growl. 

Severus was too exhausted to care. He would deal with the repercussions in the morning. He pressed a palm to his erection, grinding a little. Right before he fell back asleep, he thought, _Perhaps Potter will rip out my throat once he’s done tasting?_


	9. The Leaky

Neville didn’t know what to do with the letter he’d nicked from Snape. Snape had been so terrible to him at school that Neville would always be suspicious of his old professor. At the Leaky, when he saw Snape frowning, so engrossed by the letter, he knew he had to make a copy of it. Especially with Harry gone. Especially when they were only a year out from the end of the war. Neville still had nightmares about the Carrow twins; he still felt the sword slicing through Nagini’s slithering neck.

Neville lived above the Leaky in a one room flat. He loved his little space. He had his plants and his toad Trevor. His window was cracked and phlegmy, but he had a nice view of Diagon Alley. Sometimes he could even smell the cones baking in Fortescue's ice cream parlour. It was mouthwatering. 

Before Harry had disappeared, his life hadn’t been so bad. Neville had been on the mend. Now he fought off worry every second of the day. 

Harry couldn’t be dead. _He couldn’t_. He’d been through too much; he’d saved every single one of them. He deserved a happy ending. 

Neville had sicked up after he read the letter. _Of course_ the Lestranges were behind Harry’s disappearance. They had ruined his parents’ lives, now they wanted to ruin Harry’s, but Neville would never let them win; it didn’t matter that the Lestranges were now dead. 

Neville spent a sleepless night mulling over what he should do. The obvious choice was to go to the Ministry with the letter, but he didn’t trust them. He had a sneaking suspicion that the war had only made them _more_ corrupt. 

It was four in the morning when he made his decision. He sat by the grimy window, watching the bruised night, listening for sounds of early risers. He would take the letter to Hermione and Ron; they had been with Harry at every step during the war. Surely they would know the proper way of going about saving him. 

Hermione and Ron lived in a cottage near Devon. Hoping to catch them before they set off for work, Neville left his flat at dawn and was knocking on the door when the sun was still waking up. 

Ron answered the door in his pyjamas. He was pale and disheveled, and he didn’t look rested. He muffled a large yawn. “Nev. What’s the matter?”

“Can I come in? I have something to show you and Hermione.”

Ron ushered him inside. “Hermione’s in the shower. Want some coffee?”

Neville nodded. They went to the small kitchen and perched at the scrubbed table. Ron guided a steaming cup of coffee into his hand. “Ta,” Neville said, nervous. 

Ron blew on his own cup and drank deeply. He smacked his lips. “How’s the Leaky?”

“Good. Busy. We’re at full occupancy at the moment.”

“You ever have to clean the rooms?”

Neville shook his head. “That’s Mildred’s job, thank god.”

Hermione appeared in the doorway, her hair still wet. She halted when she saw Neville. “What’s wrong?”

Neville stood. He grasped his hands in front of him. “I have a letter addressed to Snape from Draco Malfoy. It’s about Harry.”

Hermione and Ron looked at him blankly for a moment; then she burst into tears. Neville waited awkwardly as Ron drew Hemrione into her arms and whispered encouragement in her ear.

“I’m dreadfully sorry,” Hermione said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “We’ve just had a terrible go of it since Harry disappeared.”

“No need to apologise,” Neville said. “I’m sorry that I came to you about it without warning you first.”

Neville handed over the copy of the letter to them. Hermione sat down to read it; Ron stood behind her and looked over her shoulder. Halfway through the letter, a stony look came over Hermione’s expression. She touched a scar on her cheek. 

“The bloody moron!” Ron roared. “He should have just come to the Ministry, let the actual professionals handle it!”

“Yes.” Neville pushed down any guilt he felt - Hermione and Ron deserved to know what was in the letter. 

“Did you manage to nick the book?” Hermione said hopefully.

“No,” Neville said. “I was serving Snape a pint and I only saw the letter.”

“It all seems a bit strange, like a set up,” Ron said. “I can’t imagine Malfoy racing off to help Harry.”

Hermione looked thoughtful. “He approached Harry when we were at the shop. It was the most extraordinary thing.” 

“What?” Ron said, horrified.

“Yes … this was a few months ago. They had a pleasant enough chat. I didn’t try to join since Malfoy flinched when he looked at me.”

“Good,” Ron said. 

Neville rubbed at his bristly chin. “Have you spoken to the blokes at the Ministry? Do they know what happened to Harry at Conistone?” 

Ron sighed. “Yes, Kingsley briefs us when he can, but they don’t really know what happened to Harry. The Aurors got a training spot there in Conistone. It’s just an old house with a lot of dusty rooms. Everyone imagined Harry had disappeared in the middle of the Auror drill but according to Robards, he went missing before they even started. He just wandered off into the forest. Some of the other trainees said they heard him talking to someone just inside the trees, but who knows.”

“Why would Harry just wander off?” Neville said.

“If the letter is correct, then it must have been Bellatrix’s curse that lured him away from the others,” Hermione said, voice soft. 

“Do you believe the letter?” Neville said. “Malfoy does admit that he doesn’t have proof that’s what actually happened to Harry.”

They hesitated.

“We could pop over to the Malfoy Manor … see if he’s returned,” Neville said.

Hermione and Ron shuddered. “No,” Ron said, massaging her shoulder. “We should hand this evidence over to the Aurors. Let them take care of it.”

“Really?” Neville worked his mouth, trying to understand his feelings. “I’m surprised that you trust them enough to not muck it up. The war wasn’t all that long ago.”

“The Ministry is no longer run by Death Eaters,” Hermione said. 

Neville frowned. “I don’t trust them. Not yet. The Wizengamot and the DMLE are still trying to sort themselves out. There’s still rampant corruption. They still haven’t snuffed out all of Voldemort’s supporters from the Ministry.”

Hermione covered her face. “We can trust Kingsley. I know that for sure.”

“We are all still recovering from the war,” Neville said gently. 

“Yes,” she said. 

“You don’t know if you have it in you to save Harry again.”

Hermione shook her head, face still hidden. “Everything fell on my shoulders during the war. I’m more … mature now. I _want_ to trust the Ministry will find him.” 

Neville looked at Ron, then at the top of Hermione’s bushy head. “So you think we should hand over the letter to the Ministry, then wait and see what they can do with it?”

“I will help them search for him,” Hermione said, finally looking up. “But I think we need their help. I don’t think we can do it alone, not again.”

“Right.” Neville didn’t know what he felt. “I guess I’ll be off then. Sorry for disrupting you two.” He left the letter on the table and headed for the front door.

Ron caught up with him in the foyer. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be more helpful.” He paused awkwardly. “The thing is … well, I can’t say. But we found out something right after Harry disappeared. This something changes a lot of things.”

Ron stared at Neville meaningfully, and Neville understood. He shook Ron’s hand, squeezing hard. “Congratulations, mate,” he said quietly.

“No,” Ron said, pulling away. “Don’t congratulate me yet. It’s too early.”

“Right.” Neville rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his beaten up boots. “It makes sense that you two are hesitant about going after Harry.”

Ron grimaced. “We _will_ go after Harry, but we want to be smart about it. Let’s see what the Ministry manages to do … maybe they can find Harry without us putting our … new family at risk.”

“And if they don’t find him?”

“Then I will go into that forest myself … I will do everything I can to find that property, if that’s even where Harry ended up.”

Neville whispered, “Do you think there’s any chance that Harry … didn’t make it?”

Ron shook his head, mouth firm. “No. He’s still alive. I just know it.”

Neville gripped Ron’s hand and left. He headed back to his little flat at the Leaky. 

During his shift that night, he spotted a new enchanted parchment on the public board. It was small, discreet, but Neville stopped dead when he spotted Malfoy’s photograph. The parchment read: _Missing - Have you seen this young man? Mother desperately looking for him._ The parchment included an owl post address but not Malfoy’s name.

Neville knew what he had to do. In the morning, he would leave for Conistone.


	10. Giving up Isn't an Option

Severus was the only one in bed when he woke up in the morning. He lay motionless, staring up at the ceiling. He remembered what Potter had done. He remembered the feeling of Potter’s _tongue_. Severus shivered. His cock was hard, so hard. His hand was slipping under the sheet to stroke himself when he remembered what Draco had said. Draco was right - Severus did need more self control. 

Groaning, Severus got out of bed and scurried to the toilet. A very cold shower was in order. 

After his shower, Severus went downstairs and found Draco sweeping the drawing room. Draco spotted him but didn’t say anything. 

“Have you seen Potter?” Severus said.

“He’s outside, gorging himself on rabbits.” 

“You should have stopped him,” Severus growled.

Draco snorted and continued to sweep. Severus ignored him and stomped outside to the garden. The sunlight was bright, too bright, and Severus cast a shade spell with a flick of his hand.

Severus had never liked sunlight; it was too revealing. 

Severus made his way around the garden, searching quietly. He stepped over furry corpses and avoided the puddles of blood. The same mouth that had done all this killing had touched his throat last night. Severus didn’t know why he was still alive. 

His wand ready in his hand, he found Potter near the edge of the garden, sniffing around some trees, his arse in the air. Severus stopped and stared. He glimpsed Potter’s hanging bollocks from behind. _Merlin help me_ , he thought. 

“Potter.”

Potter swerved around, mouth open in a snarl. Blood cascaded down his chin, bits of fur stuck to his skin. Severus wanted to gag. 

“Leave me alone, Severus,” Potter said. 

“No.” 

Growling, Potter turned away. He took a few steps, then he dropped to his hands and knees. He paused, breathing hard. He pounded his fists into the grass and forced himself to his feet again.

“You can do it,” Severus said.

“ _No_ , I can’t.” Potter’s voice caught. “I can barely eat like a human being. I can barely sit in a chair. All my senses - it’s too much. I can’t focus on anything.”

“You can focus enough to kill all these rabbits.”

Potter licked his lips. 

“Giving up isn’t an option. Follow me.” Severus began walking and didn’t look over his shoulder to see if Potter followed. After a couple of moments, he heard Potter’s shuffling footsteps. 

Severus led Potter into the manor, down the dark corridors. They landed in an ancient lavatory - the same one Severus had used to shower. Waving his wand, Severus filled the bathtub with hot water and floral suds. 

Potter sank into the water without being told. Severus stepped forward, not knowing what he intended to do. 

“Give me some privacy, will you?” Potter said softly. 

Severus flushed. He left the toilet and closed the door. He turned, his mind whirling, and spoke through the chipped wood: “Meet me downstairs when you are ready. For breakfast.”

In the dining room, Severus found Draco trying to rid the chandelier of cobwebs. Pointing his wand at the chandelier, Severus muttered, “ _Evansco Araneo_.”

Draco looked furious. There was dust all over his face and the front of his shirt was covered in cobwebs. “You told me I couldn’t use magic!”

“I’m not you,” Severus said. He cast the spell again and again until the chandelier was clean. He stalked into the kitchen, looking for food to prepare breakfast. 

“There’s eggs,” Draco said, hovering in the doorway. 

“Good. I’ll fry them while you toast the bread.”

“Yes, sir,” Draco said sarcastically. Severus rolled his eyes. 

A little while later, they were sitting down for breakfast when Potter emerged from upstairs. He wore clothes again and his unruly hair dripped down his face. 

Severus indicated where he should sit, just like in a classroom. Then he spelled a plate of food and utensils in front of him. Not raising his head, Potter sat down and took up the knife and fork. His claws still got in the way, but he patiently split open his eggs and let the yoke soak into the bread. Then he cut the eggs and bread into bite size pieces. 

Severus’ food grew cold as he watched Potter like a hawk. Severus was embarrassed and unsure; but he didn’t let himself dwell on his emotions. He had something to teach Potter, and Potter was going to bloody learn it. 

“Did you lot enjoy yourselves last night?” Draco said. Severus glared at him, but Draco looked back innocently. 

“Draco saw me sleeping in your bed,” Potter said, forking a bit of egg into his mouth with unsteady claws. “He was standing in the doorway when I woke up.”

Severus felt his face grow hot. “What are you implying, Draco?”

“Oh, nothing,” he drawled. 

For some reason, Potter looked angry. He set down his knife and fork to glare at Draco. 

“Finish your meal, Potter,” Severus demanded. 

Potter looked at Severus, then Draco, the anger disappearing from his face. “If you intend to question me, do it now. My control … I’m barely hanging on.”

“Did you copy down what was in that notebook?” Severus asked Draco.

Draco gritted his teeth. “No. I was too busy being your house elf.”

“Right,” Severus said, sitting back in his chair. “Potter - do you remember what happened to you before you came to Wyrmborne?”

Potter pressed his lips together. He squeezed his eyes closed, then opened them again. “I was such an idiot.” He looked like he wanted to punch something, but his fists remained in his lap. 

“The newspapers said you were in the middle of a practice raid in Conistone. Is that true?”

“We hadn’t started,” Potter mumbled, looking down. “The trainees were all standing about. The instructors were in the house, getting things ready. I haven’t gotten on with a lot of the trainees - a lot of them can’t even talk to me without stuttering. It’s so stupid.”

Draco stared at Potter with wide eyes. 

Potter took a deep breath. “I was standing away from them, closer to the trees. I heard a woman cry out. Instead of alerting the instructors or asking the other trainees for help, I charged into the forest alone. I was such an _idiot_.”

“Then what happened?” Severus asked softly.

Potter looked up directly into Severus’ eyes. “Then I saw my mum.”


	11. An Old Love

Severus convulsed in his chair. To hide this reaction, he summoned a quill, inkwell, and parchment from the nearest dusty study. The items flew into the dining room; the inkwell was gilded and grubby, but the magical ink inside had remained fresh. 

Potter had halted; Severus urged him to continue his tale with a jerk of his hand. 

Taking a deep breath, the air whistling through his fangs, Potter said, “I saw my mum - or what I thought was my mum. I know now it was just the curse.”

“What did she look like?” Draco’s eyes were very wide. 

“She looked young. She was quite beautiful.” Potter glanced at Severus when he said this, and Severus felt his cheeks warm. It was still a shock that Potter knew about his old love for Lily. “She smiled at me and opened her arms. She said, ‘I’m so happy you have come.’”

“Your mum was happy you were in the forest?” Draco said.

“Yes,” Potter said softly.

“Then what happened?” Severus said impatiently, his nose an inch away from the parchment. He wouldn’t let his hand stop writing. He wouldn’t let himself feel anything. 

Potter laughed. “Like an idiot, I followed her deeper in the forest. She wouldn’t stop touching me. She held my hand and kissed my forehead. She carded her small, cold fingers through my hair. She gazed at me hungrily like she was trying to capture everything about my face. It really did feel like she was my real mum, come back to life.”

“But - how?” Draco said. “You barely remember your real mum.”

Shrugging, Potter said, “I’ve had … encounters with her memory. I - I wanted it to be true and therefore I believed the impossible. I already said I was an idiot.”

Severus could barely remember Lily, but he had never let go of his guilt. Even though the war was over, even though Potter had vanquished the Dark Lord, the guilt still lived inside him. His hand shook around the quill. 

“We walked for a long time,” Potter continued. “Ravens circled us like guardians, like our protectors; but every time I stopped or my feet stumbled, their beady eyes would zero in on me and they would squawk. When we made it to the edge of Wyrmborne, right before I set foot onto its grounds, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.”

“Did she attack you?” Draco said. Severus flinched. 

“No. She began to scream.” Potter closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his eyes were glittering. “I thought something was attacking her; but no, it was just Wyrmborne fucking with me.”

“The manor was feeding off what little you knew about her,” Severus said quietly. “Did she speak?”

Potter gulped. “Yes - she pleaded with me not to kill Harry, not to kill myself. I knew then the manor was just repeating what I already knew were her last words.”

Severus dropped the quill, his fingers splattered with ink. He covered his face. _Oh, Lily. I’m so sorry._

No one spoke or moved for a long moment. Then Severus felt a warm hand settle on his arm. He dropped his hands from his face to find Potter’s claw clutching him. Potter smiled, teary-eyed. He was trying to soothe Severus, and it was working. The ache in his chest dulled. 

Severus wanted to kiss Potter. Potter was already touching him; he was already so close to him. All Severus had to do was lean over and capture his lips. He would kiss those tears away. He would give his entire self to Potter and make everything right.

Heat flashed in Potter’s eyes. He seemed to know what Severus wanted, and his claw tightened around his arm. 

Draco cleared his throat. Severus and Potter straightened in their chairs, Potter releasing his hold. 

“Right,” Draco said, uncomfortable. “When do you think the curse took hold? When did you physically change?”

“Almost immediately,” Potter said. “My mum disappeared when I crossed from the forest to Wyrmborne. The ravens disappeared as well. It felt like something struck me in the chest, a terrible curse. At first, I thought rogue Death Eaters had attacked me, but I was entirely alone.

“The pain began in my chest. It surged in every direction, like fire surging through my limbs. I howled and dropped to my hands and knees. I wanted to lose consciousness, but my body wouldn’t let me. I felt every bone and tooth transform.” He held up his claws. “It felt like knives piercing my fingertips when I grew these.”

“How long did it take?” Severus was furiously writing again.

“I don’t know. Maybe it only took a few seconds, maybe it took hours. I think unconsciousness finally came at the end, but I can’t be sure. At some point the beast took over and I lost an entire night. The next thing I remember it was morning, I was starkers, and I was surrounded by dead rabbits.”

“Has the manor tried to speak to you since then?” Severus said.

Potter looked uneasy. “No - do you think it will?”

“I don’t know,” Severus answered. “The curse is obviously a powerful one. Sometimes powerful curses try to control a wizard’s mind.”

“How nice,” Draco said, sounding terrified. 

“I will tell you if I start to hear voices in my head.” Potter grinned wryly. 

“So - what do we do now, sir?” Draco asked Severus. 

Severus stood, his chair almost toppling over. He paced around the old dining table, his finger prodding his lips. They were in grave danger, but he already knew that. 

“I need to get into that library as soon as possible.” Severus turned to Potter. “You need a routine. You need to learn the proper way of doing things again.” Potter opened his mouth, but Severus silenced him. “No excuses! We will get you back to using cutlery again. You will practice your letters like a primary school pupil. You will bathe frequently and bloody wear clothes.”

“Let me run around at night,” Potter growled. “I need that outlet.”

Severus opened and closed his mouth. He wanted to say no; he wanted to whip Potter into shape _immediately_. “Fine,” Severus barked. “Any other requests?”

“I want to sleep in your bed.”

Draco gasped and Severus froze. 

“What?”

“You heard me, Severus,” Potter said. 

Severus went hot all over. He turned away to hide his embarrassment. “Fine! But you will enter my bed clean and properly dressed! Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Potter smiled, showing his fangs. “Yes, sir.”


	12. The Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: There are some descriptions of gore and violence in this chapter. Like always, thanks for reading!

Severus took a deep breath. He was still flushed, still embarrassed. He felt Potter’s gaze like a shot of Amortentia. He didn’t want Draco to see Potter’s effect on him. He had to remain in control. 

“Let’s go to the drawing room,” Severus said in his best professor voice.

They left their breakfast on the table and ventured to the drawing room. Draco had done well - the rubbish had been cleared, the spiders and cobwebs evicted. Draco drew back the curtains, allowing in sunlight. The shadows fled to the corners. 

Severus pointed to a rickety table and chair. “Sit,” he commanded Potter. 

Looking unsure, Potter sat down in the chair. He was too big for the ancient furniture and he curled his claws away from the wood. This was going to be an uphill battle. 

Severus summoned more parchment and placed the same quill and inkwell in front of Potter. “Take the quill into your hand.”

Potter shot Severus a suspicious look. Scowling, he said, “How am I supposed to write with … _claws_?”

Severus crossed his arms and glared down his nose at him. It was like they were back in the classroom, back in those gloomy dungeons, and Potter was refusing to even attempt to make a proper potion. “Figure it out.”

Draco moved to the desk. He gave Potter the quill, and together they tried to mould Potter’s large claw around the fragile stem. Draco’s hand covered Potter’s claw, their heads dent close. Potter’s eyes flashed to Draco’s face, then to Severus. 

“I will help you,” Draco said softly. 

Severus stepped closer, his hand tightening around his wand. He almost snarled, _Get away from him!_ But he didn’t - he couldn’t. He was a grown man, old enough to be their father. He refused to humiliate himself even more. Looking at Draco and Potter touching, he knew he was _pathetic_ to think Potter had romantic feelings for him, that he would choose him. Draco and Potter looked good together.

Potter was still engaged to Ginny Weasley. Severus couldn’t forget. 

Potter growled low in his throat. He pulled away from Draco; then he took a deep breath. “I think I can do it by myself.” 

Severus couldn’t remain in the drawing room; too much emotion churned inside him. Not looking at either of them, he stomped down the corridor. He searched for the library. It was time to see what the manor was really made of. 

At one point, the library doors had been grand, impressive, but now they looked like yellowed snaggletooths. The wood was cracked and splintered, and striped by claw marks. Severus wondered if Potter had attacked the doors, or if some other beast had tried to gain entry. Severus shivered.

“ _Revelabo Incantatio_ ,” Severus said.

The doors creaked open. Wand at the ready, Severus stepped into the library. He was shocked to find the enormous room spotless; no dust lingered in the air, the thread in the carpets was still vibrant, and the settees looked soft and inviting. The number of books made his heart flutter. 

A towering fireplace crowned the room. Severus drew closer to inspect it. The mantel contained two regal ravens that watched Severus with glossy black orbs. 

Severus heard a quiet moan. He swerved around, a protection spell on his tongue. He didn’t see anyone but he heard another moan. The sound was coming from the other end of the library, behind a sprawling settee. 

“Oh, _please_ ,” a man said softly. A loud growl filled the room. 

Severus rushed toward the sound. He expected to find another beast; perhaps the curse had frozen the library in time, and he was about to discover a Lestrange contaminated by their own filthy curse …

He came around the settee and stopped dead. It was Draco and Potter, and they were fucking on the floor. They were starkers, and Severus glimpsed Draco’s pink cock. He was on his hands and knees for Potter, and Potter was pounding into him, growling, snarling, his claws leaving bloody nicks on Draco’s back, his hips.

For a long moment, Severus couldn’t do anything but watch. His mouth had gone dry.

Draco gasped and arched into Potter’s cock. “ _Harry_ ,” he moaned.

Potter opened his mouth like he was tasting the air. He panted and whined; he hugged Draco closer, hunching over, and _ground_ into him. He kissed Draco’s back. “Gorgeous,” he said, drooling around his fangs. 

Severus wanted to join them. He wanted to get behind Potter and lick the sweat from his neck. He would caress Potter’s clenching arse and fondle his bollocks. He would touch where Potter entered Draco, where his cock stretched his tight pink hole. 

“ _Finis Phantas_!” Severus said. 

Screaming filled Severus’ head. It was a woman. It was Lily. 

Severus dropped to his knees. Draco and Potter had disappeared, and Severus and Lily were the only ones in the room. He sucked in dust. 

“Why Severus?” Lily circled him, but he didn’t dare look up. He saw her prowling, rotten feet. 

“You are not real.”

“I thought we were friends,” she said. “You said we were friends.”

“You are not real.”

“Please, Severus.” Her voice was closer, like she leaned down. “I need to know why you murdered me.” 

“You are not real!” he roared. 

Severus stood shakily, his wand raised. Lily stood before him; she wore her rotting flesh like a dress; it bulged in places, wet, stinking, and festering.

Lily’s eyes rolled. “You are a murderer!” 

“Yes, I am.” Severus took a deep breath. He needed to remember; he needed to be strong. “ _Finis Phantas_!”

Lily cried out; all evidence of her decay disappeared. Now she was like he remembered her, except a bloody wound gaped from the centre of her chest. She looked at him in astonishment. “You’re hurting me, Sev.” She sounded young, so young. Her beautiful green eyes shimmered with tears.

“ _Finis Phantas_!”

Lily fell to the ground. She begged him. “Please! My son needs me! He’s only a baby. If you kill me, he will be all alone in the world!”

Severus couldn’t see. Tears were streaming down his face, but he didn’t feel them. “You’re not real,” he said desperately. If he could murder Albus, then he could defeat this phantom. 

“Please! Have mercy!”

“ _Finis Phantas_!”

Blood spurted from Lily’s delicate mouth. She writhed in pain. She was sobbing through the blood, pleading with him. 

“ _Finis Phantas_!”

Through cracked lips, she whispered, “I thought you loved me. I thought you loved Harry.”

Exhausted, his head aching so thoroughly it felt split in two, Severus pointed his wand at her one last time. He yelled, “ _Finis Phantas_!” Then Severus collapsed.


	13. Make Me Lose Control

Neville was lost in the forest. The foliage blocked out the sun and he struggled to identify the trees that loomed over him. The air was thick with magic, dark magic; to calm himself, Neville stopped often and dropped to a knee to inspect a flower, a blade of grass. Herbology would always comfort him. 

Neville was over his head. He wasn’t an Auror. He wasn’t trained in dueling and combat and detection. He was a bartender who adored plants. He merely wanted to help his friend. 

He watched the forest floor, expecting to encounter Harry’s corpse; the tiny flowers dipped their heads in mourning, the grass thick and obscuring. He saw no animal, no insect. 

The day disappeared on him. He was disoriented and panicked. He attempted navigational spells but they didn’t work. Ron and Hermione had been right; he should have left this to the Aurors, to the professionals. 

Night bore down on him. The _Lumos_ from his wand was a literal shot in the dark. The forest was eerily quiet. It was like everything in it had died. 

Then Neville saw the cottage. He almost cried in relief; he’d been lost for hours and hours, and sweat poured down his face. He just wanted to see another person; he just wanted someone to help him. 

The cottage looked so damn cheerful. Gleaming moss climbed up its sides and smoke piped good-naturally from its chimney. The smell of freshly baked bread and a tender roast assaulted his nose, making his mouth water. He hadn’t eaten since he left the Leaky. 

Neville knocked on the door and a man answered. Neville blinked, then blinked again. The man was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He had long blond hair, a fine nose, and a round little mouth. The man smiled.

“Hello,” Neville said.

“Hello,” said the man. “Will you come in?”

“Yes, thank you.” Neville slipped past the man into the cottage.

*

Severus woke up in bed. He gasped and clutched his chest. His whole body ached, especially where Potter had scratched him. There was something heavy wrapped around his feet. For a moment, Severus thought his legs were chained up, but he moved his limbs and discovered Potter was asleep and wrapped around his feet like a dog. Severus felt the strange urge to pet him but he didn’t do it.

Severus relaxed against the bed. He should shove Potter away, tell him not to touch him, but Potter’s proximity was comforting. 

Terrible images overwhelmed Severus. He had killed Lily. He had seen Draco and Potter shagging. There had been so much blood, so much pain. Severus shivered: The manor felt different now. It bore down on him. Something terrible lived inside its walls, and Severus knew that he had only experienced a taste of its power. 

Potter whimpered and sat up. He was starkers again, and Severus forced himself to avert his eyes, even though he could barely see Potter’s form in the darkness. 

“Are you okay?” Potter said. 

“Yes,” Severus said thickly. “Did you save me?”

“Draco did,” Potter said, sounding bitter. “We found you unconscious on the floor of the library but I smelled blood and lost my head.”

“Was there blood?” Severus gulped. “Did you see her?”

“No. And I didn’t see the blood either. I just smelled it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t see her,” Severus whispered. 

Potter rose from bed. He stared down at Severus for a moment, his green eyes a hot gleam in the darkness. Severus thought Potter would touch him with one of his enormous claws, but Potter turned around and left the room. 

Several minutes passed. Severus heard the rasp of his breathing, the thumping of his own heart. His scars ached. Everything in him ached. His cock was very, very hard. 

When he decided Potter wasn’t coming back, Severus slipped his hand under the duvet. He stroked himself, thinking about Potter. He bit his lip hard to stop himself from making noise. 

Severus wanted to fuck Potter, and he wanted Potter to fuck him. He wanted Potter to force him onto his hands and knees; he wanted Potter to hold him down, cut and bruise him with those claws. Potter would fill him up; he would make him cry. Severus wanted Potter to make him lose control.

Severus was wet, too wet. Precome drenched his fingers. He should be embarrassed how needy his cock was, but he was alone; he was alone and the only thing that mattered was cornering his orgasm, letting it wash over him. 

The pleasure made him grit his teeth. He stilled, his hand tugging hard, and warm semen gushed over his knuckles, smearing on the bedding. 

A second later Severus was asleep. He slept so deeply that he didn’t dream.

Something wet woke him up. His hand was wet, and he didn’t know why. He thought he was back in Spinner’s End, back in his leaky childhood bedroom, and the rain water had sneaked through the ceiling again.

But no: it was a tongue. A _tongue_ was lapping at his hand, the same hand that he had used to wank. 

“ _Potter_ ,” Severus gasped, his eyes flying open. He registered that it was early morning, grey light spilling from the curtained window like weak tea. 

“Let me,” Potter growled, his tongue seeking every crevice of Severus’ hand. 

“Fine,” Severus said casually, but his heartbeat roared in his ears. He moved his hand to give Potter better access. He felt every swipe of Potter’s burning tongue in his cock. He squirmed, his eyes closed again, and they both knew his cock was getting hard again. 

Potter moaned. “You taste so good.”

“God.”

Potter took Severus’ fingers into his mouth; he bit down with his sharp fangs. Severus yanked his hand away, suddenly realising the danger. 

“Sorry,” Potter said, head still bent. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You should leave now.” Severus was trembling and his hand was now bleeding a little. 

“Yes.” Potter left the room.


	14. Say Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! September was absolute chaos for me. 
> 
> Heads up: September through November are the busiest months in fandom for me. I will be furiously writing stories for fests so I might not be able to update this fic every week.
> 
> Like always, thank you for reading!

Neville couldn’t take his eyes off the man. A lavish feast filled the table in front of him. He knew the man was a wizard because there was no way a Muggle could make all this food in such a small cottage. All thoughts of Harry and the forest had disappeared from his mind.

The man sipped wine, letting the red liquid linger on his full lips before his pink tongue licked it away. Neville stared at his lips, then at the glimpse of his tongue. He felt a bit drunk; the heat spilled off the fire in cheerful waves. 

Neville stuffed himself with roast beef and gravy. There were roasted potatoes and honey carrots. There were meat pies and crusty bread and something gelatinous that tasted like savory blackberries. 

“Leave room for dessert,” the man purred. 

Neville raised his eyebrows. “Are _you_ the dessert?”

The man laughed lowly. “Only if you want me to be.”

Neville drank some water. His mouth was suddenly dry. He didn’t have a great relationship with his sexuality. He hadn’t told many about it. In fact, he hadn’t told anyone about it. He worked too much. He rarely saw mates. He rarely saw anyone. He very much wanted to suck this beautiful man’s cock. 

“What is your name?” Neville said. 

The man smiled naughtily. “Do you like what you see?”

“Yeah.” Neville gulped, his throat tightening. “I’ve always had a weakness for blondes.”

“I know.” The man stood and offered Neville his elegant hand. 

They left all that delicious food and staggered into a cold, dark room. The man lit a candle, and for a moment, Neville saw nothing but the burning flame. The man came to him. They kissed passionately, and Neville gasped. He had never kissed a man like this. He’d never kissed _anyone_ like this.

“I know what you want.” The man brought Neville’s hand around to finger his arsehole. Somehow the man’s clothes had disappeared. Neville gasped again, shuddering. He pressed deeper, and the man opened so easily for him. 

The man squirmed and arched into his dry finger. “I know you want me to say please.”

Neville’s eyes fluttered. It was true. All of his dirtiest fantasies included a man on his knees asking nicely for Neville to shag him. All of his dirtiest fantasies also included Draco Malfoy, but this wasn’t the time to think about old school fancies. 

“Please,” the man said, and pulled Neville to an enormous bed. He had no idea where the bed came from. _There’s a spell on this room_ , Neville thought. 

Then Neville was pushing inside the man. They were both naked now, and Neville couldn’t remember removing his clothes. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered when a greedy arsehole was clenching around him. 

Neville pushed in so easily. The man loved it. He arched and cried out; his hot hands roamed over Neville’s broad back, looking for purchase. Neville fucked him carefully, thinking he needed to go slowly so he didn’t hurt him; but his cock slid in and out so easily, like his arse was a cunt, like it was made for Neville. 

The man dragged Neville into a panting kiss. “I own you now,” the man whispered.

“Yes.” Neville quickened his thrusts. His cock was so hard, so needy. His toes were curling he was so desperate to come. 

“I will bury you and you will join the others.”

“God.” Neville’s thrusts stuttered; he was close, so close. 

The man threw his head back, his long neck gleaming like porcelain in the candlelight. He looked exactly like Draco Malfoy in that moment, and Neville screamed as an orgasm burned through him. 

They lay in each other’s arms, the sweat cooling on their skin. The man traced Neville’s nipple with a nail that was too sharp. The pain made Neville grunt. 

“I will never let you go.” The man reached for Neville’s cock again. 

Neville groaned headily. He couldn’t think but it didn’t matter. The man slithered down to take him into his mouth.

*

Severus found Potter in the drawing room. After Potter licked his hand, Severus had selected to take his breakfast alone. But now he was ready to face Potter.

Potter blushed a little and smiled at him. Severus stared. Potter had never blushed like that for him. 

“Good morning, Potter.”

“Good morning, Severus.”

Severus cleared his throat. “Today I want to work on your control by running through a few exercises. Does that sound adequate to you?”

“I do need more control.” Potter looked away, and Severus knew he was thinking about what he did earlier that morning. “Are you sure you’re up for it? You were quite weakened after the attack.”

Severus raised his chin. “I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t ready.”

Potter shrugged. “All right. I hope I’m done practising my letters.”

“No, you’re not; but that’s not what I want to do.” Severus looked around. “Where is Draco? I don’t want him to be hit by one of your stray spells.”

Potter looked intrigued. “I believe he’s cleaning the upstairs toilets.”

“I see,” Severus said, surprised. He never thought spoiled Draco would willingly clean a toilet. “Take out your wand. I want to see a proper dueling stance.”

Potter slipped his wand from his pocket. He widened his stance and rested his weight on his right foot. He raised his wand. 

Severus circled him. He missed his long flowing robes. “We shall start with a simple _Lumos_. You can manage that, can’t you?”

Potter’s jaw clenched. “My wand doesn’t work anymore, but I can try.”

“You will do more than _try_ , Potter.” Severus’ voice was a quiet snarl. Teaching always put him in a testy mood. 

“Yes, sir,” Potter growled. He raised his wand with purpose. “ _Lumos_!”

Nothing happened. “Again!” Severus barked.

“ _Lumos_!”

“Again.”

Potter took a deep breath. Determination darkened his face. “ _Lumos_ ,” he said, fangs bared.

His wand emitted a soft, weak light that flickered and went out. Potter looked at him with wide eyes.

“Very good, Potter.”

“I think - I think I can do it,” Potter said breathlessly. He sounded excited, hopeful. Something tender clenched in Severus’ chest. 

Severus allowed himself to smile. He crossed his arms. “We’ve only just begun. Do it again, Potter.”

Grinning, Potter shouted, “ _Lumos_!” A brighter light flowed from the tip of his wand. 

“Again.” Severus couldn’t look away from Potter. _Beautiful_ , he thought.


	15. Parts of a Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for waiting. I took a bit of a break December/January but now I'm back to writing again <3

Something was different between Severus and Potter that night. Draco had out did himself with the cooking, and Severus savoured his veal and chard. Potter was getting better at holding his cutlery. He didn’t seem so self-conscious as he carefully shoveled food into his mouth. 

Potter caught Severus’ gaze and smiled at him, and Severus felt something tighten in his chest. He liked seeing Potter happy, confident. Potter was _meant_ to be happy. 

For the first time since coming to Wyrmborne, Severus allowed himself to hope. 

Potter dropped his eyes shyly, then peeked up at him again. Severus sipped his wine, rotating the glass in his hand, letting his gaze eat Potter up. 

Draco made a noise in his throat. “So,” he said loudly, “I assume your little training session went well?”

Severus forced himself to look at Draco. “It was a good start. What did _you_ do with your time?”

“More cleaning!” Draco said, going pink. 

“I see.” Severus sniffed and ate a bit of veal. 

“What is the problem?” Draco said.

“I thought we had agreed that research is a crucial next step. I’m disappointed that you did not use the time to consult the library since access to it was your main stumbling block when you and Potter were here alone.”

Draco opened and closed his mouth. “That room tried to _kill_ you!”

“So?” Severus snapped. 

“What do you mean _so_? I don’t want to die!”

Severus slammed his fist on the table. “This is no time for stupid fear! I fully intend to return to the library at my earliest convenience.” He narrowed his eyes at Draco. “And I fully expect you to do the same.”

“Earliest convenience? You mean when you find time when you’re not ogling Potter like a creepy old man?”

Severus shoved to his feet. “ _How dare you_?”

Potter stood as well. “Let’s both calm down.” He raised his claws in the air, trying to lower the tension, and it was the most ridiculous sight. 

“Has it occurred to either of you that we will never leave this place?” Draco said.

Potter grew pale. He blinked rapidly. “I don’t want either of you stuck here because of me.”

“Giving up so early, Draco?” Severus snarled. 

Draco lifted his chin. “No, I’m just trying to be reasonable. I admit that what that room did to you frightened me. I - maybe we are in over our heads.”

Severus scrubbed at his face. “You imbecile,” he said softly, voice trembling. “The curse isn’t contained to the library. It’s all around us.”

There was a heavy silence. Potter looked down at his claws, inspecting them. He was bodily proof that the curse’s power reached further than the library; it reached even beyond the house, into the dark forest. All three of them knew that. 

Draco deflated. “Ignore me,” he said, strained. “I’m not in the right frame of mind.”

Potter looked at Draco worriedly. “Is there anything we can do to help you?”

Draco looked at Potter, then at Severus. His expression was almost lovesick. “No … I just need some privacy.” He cleared the plates on the table and wandered into the kitchen.

Turning his face away, Severus escaped as well. He went up the stairs to his bedroom. He heard Potter following behind him, and his stomach lurched. 

In the bedroom, he began readying for bed as if Potter wasn’t hovering in the doorway. Severus’s hands shook as he pulled off his boots. 

“You don’t need to be so cruel to him, you know.” Potter entered the room, closing the door behind him. 

“I don’t need to know your thoughts on the matter,” Severus said stiffly. He slowly unbuttoned the front of his robes.

Potter’s gaze dropped to the slice of skin revealed. Severus almost brought a hand up to cover the scarring on his throat. 

“I thought you liked Draco. He was your favourite pupil, afterall.” 

_That was before his sixth year, when I was forced to murder Albus because of his idiotic mistakes_. Severus shrugged. “His faults are getting in the way of our investigation. It’s not about whether I like him or not.”

Potter raised his eyebrows. Severus didn’t appreciate the knowing look in his eyes. He didn’t want Potter knowing the true reason why he lost his temper around Draco - jealousy. 

Losing his nerve, Severus put his back to Potter to finish undressing. He paused at his trousers, his heart thumping harder. He realised what a fool he was being. Potter had licked the semen off his hand. It made no difference if he saw Severus in his underpants. 

Severus stepped out of his trousers and crossed the small space to the bed. Potter growled low in his throat. The sound sent shivers through Severus. 

“Are you coming to bed?” Severus said, not brave enough to look at Potter.

Potter inched closer. “Not yet … I still want to do my nightly run. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

Severus shrugged again. He got under the duvet, the sheets cool against his heated skin. Life was so bloody strange. He never would have thought Harry Potter would see him in his underpants. 

Potter sat down on the bed, careful not to touch Severus. His mouth curled in a soft smile. “What you did for me today - I don’t know how to thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything remarkable.” Severus turned away to stare up at the dark ceiling. 

“You gave me back my magic. I can’t tell you - it means the world to me.”

“Of course it means the world to you. You’re a bloody wizard.”

Potter let out a heavy sigh. “I wish things were different. I wish I had made different choices.”

“Yeah? Join the club.”

For some reason, his response made Potter laugh. Hesitating, Potter touched Severus’ arm with one of his claws. “I wish I could touch you with my own hands, not with the parts that make me a monster.”

Severus trembled; he couldn’t help it. Potter snatched his claw away. “Sorry,” Potter said quickly. 

Severus couldn’t tell him the real reason why he’d trembled, so instead he rolled his eyes and said, “There’s no reason for you to apologise.”

“Right.” Potter rose from the bed. “I suppose you want to sleep now.”

“Yes,” he said, though he felt wide awake. 

Potter went to the door. He paused to look back at Severus in bed, his eyes dark. “I look forward to joining you later,” he said lowly.

Severus forced his expression to remain blank. “Enjoy your run, Potter.”


	16. A Lonely Man

Neville had lost track of time. He had lost track of himself. Days no longer existed. He lived in one continuous night, the fire still crackling on the hearth, the strange man still insatiable. Neville held his breath for dawn. 

Then, like a flash of Deja Vu, he had a moment of clarity. He lay in bed next to the man, still gasping for breath, his cock still tingling wetly. 

_This isn’t real_ , Neville thought. He grew very still, his eyes blurring over. It was true, wasn’t it? The cottage wasn’t real. Neville felt it in his bones. 

Neville pushed himself to his feet. He found his clothes where he left them on the chair. The man propped himself up by an elbow, still in bed. 

“Come back to bed, Longbottom,” the man drawled. “I’m not even close to being done with you.”

Buttoning his trousers, Neville turned to stare down at the man. He sounded too much like Draco Malfoy, too much like the bad boy Slytherins who had secretly made Neville’s heart thud with want. 

Neville found his wand. He casually ate an apple as he weighed his options. He was in a shit situation, a dangerous situation. There was no denying it. 

Best to find out what he was up against now. 

“What are you?” Neville asked, still casual, still eating his apple. 

“I’m nothing more than a lonely man who wants company.” 

“Well, if that’s the case, then I will leave now. I still have a long journey ahead of me.” Neville went to the front door but it was locked, unmovable. 

The man slithered from bed. He was still naked, his pale skin glowing in the firelight. He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

“Please don’t leave me,” the man purred. He came right up to Neville and wrapped his arms around him. He kissed the apple tartness from his mouth. He reached down to palm Neville through his trousers. “Your cock is delicious … let me taste you again.” 

The man tried to drop to his knees but Neville grabbed his shoulders and shoved him away. Neville pointed his wand at him. “I demand that you show me your true form!”

Blinking back tears, the man said, “Please. Don’t hurt me. Don’t leave me. I’m so very lonely. Aren’t you lonely, too? I know you are.”

 _Think_ , Neville told himself. He had been a bartender for too long. It felt like all the spells he knew had fled his brain.

“I’m warning you! Show yourself or I will curse you!”

“Please,” the man said, coming closer. Tears now streamed down his cheeks. “Please believe me. I’m merely a man, a lonely man. All I want is comfort.”

The man reached out to touch him but Neville stumbled back. “ _Stupefy_!” The charm hit the man in the chest. Nothing happened. 

Neville blinked. “ _Stupefy_!” he said again. And again. He sent multiple charms at the man but none of them had any impact. The man remained standing, unmarked. 

Neville turned toward the front door. “ _Confringo_!” The door should have exploded but all it did was shudder slightly. 

“Stop trying to ruin my house!” the man insisted. 

“ _Confringo_!” Neville said, now aiming for the man. The man stumbled back. His form shuddered like a photograph in the wind. Encouraged, Neville bombarded the man with the exploding spell. Over and over. The air grew hot and smoky from his magic.

The man wasn’t injured but he wasn’t right. His edges wavered like he was paint in water. There was something happening to the man; it was like he was splitting into two. 

Neville took the opportunity to attack the door. Shielding his face, he sent more exploding spells at it. The wood groaned and cracked down the middle; Neville kicked the door open and ran.

It was dark, the moon blacked out completely. He froze after only a few steps. A terrible _slithering_ blocked his way.

Panting, he whispered, “ _Lumos_.” What he saw made him scream: It was a gigantic snake; it was Nagini, back from the dead. But this time, Neville didn’t have the Sword of Gryffindor. 

Neville stumbled back. The serpent hissed, showing its terrible fangs. “Let me go,” Neville said, voice trembling.

The serpent only inched closer, its scales like moving oil in the darkness. 

“I command you to let me go!”

The serpent snapped its neck, aiming for Neville’s face. Neville flung himself to the side but the serpent pursued him. 

“ _Diffindo_!” Neville’s severing charm hit the serpent but only did mild damage. Neville darted around the enormous animal and sprinted into darkness. The serpent kept pace. 

Neville ran and ran, tripping over roots and branches. He sent severing charm after severing charm behind him, hoping a few caught his attacker.

Then he tripped and fell. He turned just in time to blast the serpent in the face, sending it flying back. Gasping for breath, Neville stood. 

“ _Diffindo_!” he yelled. “ _Confringo_!”

A ball of fire consumed the serpent. It gave a terrible cry and melted, revealing multiple forms. Neville didn’t understand what he was seeing. It looked like people - human beings - crawled out of the serpent’s burning body. 

Neville didn’t wait to see what the people did. He charged through the black forest, running faster than he had ever run. He twisted his ankle but didn’t stop. Branches pulled at his hair, beat his face, but he didn’t stop.

Finally he reached a clearing. There was a garden and a manor. There was also someone not far off, someone to his right. 

“ _Lumos_ ,” Neville said, and raised his wand. He was shaking all over and the light jumped. He blinked, not believing his eyes. “Harry?”

Harry came closer, his eyes glittering, predatory. Harry tried to speak but then he zeroed in on where Neville was bleeding. 

A second too late, Neville noticed his claws, his enormous fangs.

Harry lunged for him, toppling him to his back. Neville screamed as loud as he could. Harry sank his fangs into his neck and ripped out his throat.


End file.
